What ragged looks about you
as you start to neglect your hygiene to.
Long since your work became your favourite game
and to you it's all the same.
If you have one minute to spare
you start to quiver in your chair.
You look at me with pleading eyes,
please just one phone call, name your price.
It's important you know,
there's people depending on me.
You put on a grand show,
in hope that I'll see,
the neccesity for me to come in second place.

And as I give in to you
thinking there is no room for me in two.
I see the shame you feel
and know my kindness put yet another seal
on that anxiety that's building up inside
that you stow away and hide.
Not just from me, but from yourself as well,
you immerse yourself in an impenetrable shell,
feelings of self loathing adds the sharpest thorns
as you pierce yourself with unrelentless scorn.

And when you feel like this why wont you let me
open your eyes and make you see?
Is it better to moodswing through life
and deep in the dark valley romantisize
on the glory of stress
and the unfortunate need of the mess
it creates in your personal life
and the outlook of future strife?

Please try to sober up my dear
if not I fear,
you will loose all touch with reality
and misery
will be your new best friend.
Soon there will be nothing left of you to mend.