Symptoms Poem by Lisa John

The racing thought, and the
Changing moods
The pain, and the cutting
It's not my fault, I don't choose

The costant thinking
Why me?
I dont matter, I'm nothing
It's uncontrolable can't you see

But I'm happy sometimes
I'm the most Important person alive
But thats what I'm programed to think
If I want to survive

I'm not incontrol,
And yet I do what I think
And I could kill myself easily
Without a second blink

So can you guess the symptoms
They are getting worse and worse
It's not my fault, I don't choose
Co's Bipolar is a curse