Diagnosis

Sometimes I'm very pompous.
Sometimes I'm very drab.
Sometimes I make the best of things
I've ever, never had.
Fast dance around the voidy thing;
the pit that pulls me in.
It is not there. I do not see.
I nod the madman's nod with glee.
repeat repeat repeat with me
'I have no rope', 'I have no tree'.
I cannot face this sad.

I am wearing out my life.
I am weary with my strife.
I am heavy with my tears
that hide from me when near.
How I wish to let them flow
and burn my cheeks, they burn my soul.
I am very very sad
and I'm trying to be glad.
I am broken in my mind.
It was the best one I could find.