My highs are too high and
My lows are too low, but
Feed me some Prozac and
Watch me go.
Do the Mood Swing.
Laughing too hard at
Jokes with no humor
Neighbor saw me crying
But that’s just a rumor.
Do the Mood Swing.
Find me a room with curtains drawn tight
A dark little place to shut out the light
And equipped with a bed that’s stained with regret
That I might cover myself and try to forget
The rotted silence of hopeless fears
The swirling abyss of wasted years
That measures my existence from minutes to hours
Madness growing like poisoned flowers
Here in this blackness where echoes scream
Keeping time as I do The Mood Swing…
END
“Do The Mood Swing”
Thanks for sharing George!!
Lol!!
Great job SIR!!!!
Love Tinka
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
the only moods i know of are moods of motion ...
awesome poem articulating the moments when your moods are moving into themselves ...
Take care,
Sherry
You capture me, lately GOOD OLE perimenopause GRRRRRRRRRRR LOL
LOVE IT
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Swingin...just a-swingin...LOL
However you write about it better than anyone,so there!!! That you can own,your wonderful poetry!;-)
etw
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D