Here it is, nightfall has come again
The bane of existence as of late
All night I sit or lay in consternation
My mind racing as a horse on a track
The voices in my head scream at me
Vying for the front seat in my brain
My cells gasping for breath in my being
Turning colors on an unequal scale
This is half of what it means to be bipolar
In a world that just doesn’t understand
The break in the race of humankind
Seeking an end to an end to an end
Mood swings up and then down
In an uneven pattern of dismal quality
What it must be like to be insane
In a world that seeks only reason
Psychosis in a model of prejudice
Wanderings about in total oblivion
Happy talking in an inevitable stream
Ending in a silence of sad pertain