This last round
Of bipolar madness
Has left me
O, so tired,
And flat broke,
And this time
There was
Precious little poetry
Bubbling up from within
To counter
The negative energies.
It is the nature of the disorder
To bring intense darkness
To my soul
And equally intense
Images of beauty
From my heart.
But where was the beauty
To see me through
The darkness?
I found it
In the words
Of my fellow poets,
And though
I could not arouse myself
At the time
To show my appreciation,
I do so now
With this little offering
Of my esteem.