bluestorm548

CAD A poem We grow and we learn is what people say. But how does that effect you every day? The mind is said to be strong and fortifted But thoes of the anxious are always mortified. Not a soul is angry, harsh or cruel. But the demons in the head often rule. Turning the tides of peace to fear With the demon inside who jeers. A racing heart, a tired body and racing mind How could thoes people thought as mean actually be so kind? Am I the one who is blind? The epi flows and the worry grows, manifesting itself into physical exahustion. Though the drive of something greater is Faustian We fall, fail and curse ourselves. What is wrong with