I have to write a happy poem
Even though it’s hard
It’s so strange how happy I tend to be
It’s just my words typed are
muddy

with sorrow and defeat and
fight, fight, fight against someone
I don’t know
who-

could it be?
Am I crazy or sane?
Inside my brain is there a problem
that makes me fake or am I
real?

Do I just shpeal the wrong words at
the wrong times and they just don’t
appeal the way
I want them to.

This poem is not happy
and that makes me sad
Sad and mad but not in the way
that makes me want to fight
the way that keeps
the insomniacs up at night

but

I sleep soundly.

Now I see how confusing this poem
is coming out to be
I should
stop.

Stop now or stop writing I’m
not sure but how
can we be certain of anything
when everyone of us is
bursting with ideas
but so confined.
So confined.

I never want my mind
to feel that way.