Manic

it is never quite enough,

there is always something

I could have done better,

always something

I should have known sooner,

it is never enough,

it leaves me feeling so inadequate,

like I’m hanging on

by the tips of my fingers,

afraid to let go,

because then everyone will see

what I really am;

I’m sure there’s a name

for people like me,

some doctor with his nose stuck

in the latest psycho books,

could slap a label on it so quick

it would make your head spin;

for a small fee of course,

but would it really matter?

then it would just have a name,

then it might get personal,

and before you know it,

I’d be walking around talking to it,

like it was my oldest and dearest friend;

and people would ask,

is he mad?

while those who know me would reply;

“Nope, he’s just talking to his dear old friend

Manic.”

.

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