I hate poetry, cause its an illusion,
a resilient disease, with no cure.
I hate poetry, cause there is no way out.
I am stuck with it, and so lured.
I am not certain about my future,
nor can keep the trail of time.
With every word i sound so stupid.
With every poem i loose my mind.
I pray to God, to relieve my fears,
to scatter the doubt and pure my soul.
I shout and cry with helpless tears
and ask to grant my wish once more.
But when i am saved from this despair,
i feel lost as if in flare.
I lone for madness, i used to carry.
I want my virus back! I am crazy!