Wild with unbounded energy tonight,
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I eschew my meds until I can hear
the frightful voices trumpet in my ear,
now haunting me into the dead of night
as I transform into a monstrous sight;
a version of myself that I most fear
when mania overtakes me—oh, dear
God! Why am I accursed with this dire plight!?
Life with bipolar disorder seems tragic—
it's like a trial by fire, a hard test;
at times this dark disease makes me frantic
with madness, rapture, and profound unrest
that's so vile that I go full-blown manic—
and then I'm o'erwhelmed and under arrest!
"To have the soul of a poet is to feel with the mind, and to think with the heart."