Strafed by Despair

Poem Body

Tired of body or tired of mind
Stay overworked or bored as hell
Sitting still means my thoughts accost me
Self doubt and loathing I know too well

Work as an outlet, I cannot sit still
Things need perfecting but I never will
A bottomless hole I can never fill
Loneliness pervades everything still

My own abuser, I keep coming back
Always there’s something to pull me off track
Habits developed from trauma way back
Patterns of anger and panic attacks

Purposeful movements may idle the mind
In accomplishment, satisfaction I’ll find
Creative pursuits are my place to unwind
A shelter from troublesome thoughts so unkind

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Region, Country: U.S.A., USA

Favorite Poets: Emily Dickinson, Robert Frost, Walt Whitman. I’m enamored by the work of lyricists such as Robert Hunter, John Barlow, John Dyer Baizley, and Tom Marshall just to name a handful.

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Comments

I love your...

every line rhyme! Sounds like a good rap; not that I'm a good judge, but I laid down a beat for it, and it worked! So, if I can do it, I guess anyone can. This will reach some people. ~ Geez.
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