My Skin

SKIN

It’s a tragedy this Bipolarity,

Wish I could peel it off like old skin;

Then underneath of course, without a lack of remorse,

I’d find a starting place from where to begin.

But as it is now I have to find somehow;

Where the wild horses are only ridden in leisure,

And the pleasure of a kind, that tears and rips at my mind,

Is solely given for me to treasure.

Not to run and trash, make me behave so unabashed,

Like a stallion set on the loose;

For when temperaments waved back in,

The beginning is back to begin;

Regrets a plenty for all those abused,

Yes a manic mind is one of a kind,

But it’s one I’d much rather lose.

But when I look at my skin, it looks good from within,

And I’ve only got one thing to prove.

Nige Downing