Why do I stop writing when I know I'm going mantally insane
Not saying what I want to say
Dealing with life everyday
If you haven't figure it out now
I'm venting my feelings
In the only way I know how
My poetry is my therapist
And my words and thoughts are
The things that calm me down
Because I'm bossed around on the daily
And expected to do the unexpected
Feeling so stretched thin
Can almost scream
because the stress it brings