Mind Games

As I sit to write about a love gone bad,
I think back and wonder, why am I so sad?
Is it seeing two friends about to get married?
Or is it seeing other people together of races varied?
Is it being in a class with the girl who broke my heart?
Making me sad, mad, and otherwise fall apart.

As I sit, I feel the cool breeze surround me
I begin to daydream and wonder who my comforter could possibly be:
Could it be the one who loves me, likes me?
No it couldn't. She's the one I can't stand to see.
Could it be the one who I dream about in bed?
No it couldn't. It would sooner be possible for me to be dead.
Could it be the one who offers me her jacket?
No! I got it! I'll spend my life alone...under my blanket.

Thinking back on my past, painful strife,
I often pray and beg God to please take my life.
If God doesn't hear my prayer for no more living,
I am afraid I'll break and burst and stop all my giving.
One after the other, events cause me to despair,
Mounting on my shoulders, becoming too much to bear.
All the world's troubles seem nothing compared to mine,
But that's because my thoughts are distorted and hard to define.

As I sit and wait for the girl with whom I broke up,
I think to myself, "I'm a poor, pathetic pup."
Then my mind takes that football and runs with it,
Dodging all my defensemen to make a touchdown of it.
Then it prances around and rubs it in by calling me names
"You stupid idiot! You think you could actually get some dames?"
I try, and I try to wake up from this nightmare,
Only to realize that no matter what I do, my mind is still there.

I sit and think back as to how all this got started.
I fell in love with this girl, a crazy notion that should've gotten me wheeled, carted.
Since that fateful day, my past has crept in like an infectious Sickle,
Causing me so much pain, wishing I was in an ever-shrinking cubicle.
When will this pain, this mental anguish stop?
I don't know, but I do know one thing, I've gotta end up on top.

© 2002 Gustavo White