The bouncing cyber dating envelopes
Swamping the in-box unexpectedly
Answering a profile baring its soul
Time has come to delete everything
Bipolar is not my worst enemy
The ones who shun us are sicker
The seeds planted on shallow ground
Ones who see imperfection outward
They never look at the face in the mirror
Except to put their made-up face on
So stand up when feeling strange and alone
So many will come unexpectedly
Ones who keep their side of the street clean
They’re the tall oaks planted firmly
In the dark fertile earth of pain and love…