Psychosomatic

Psychosomatic thrills and chills,
Laying on my bed and daily popping pills,
Paying the toll on my way to hell,
The cost is more than I can bear,
The fare’s my soul.

A testimonial to how bad life can be,
Although I don’t live in a war torn country,
I do live in my own body,
Repressed and depressed by my own mechanisms,
Tortured and despaired by my own decisions,
What a sight it is to see to look in from out,
Without being able to see what the whole picture’s about.

A wonder of nature, this evolution of despair,
While it must serve a purpose, I really don’t care,
For what reason do I suffer such a fate worse than death?
For how long will this go on?
Any longer I refuse to accept.
This illness possesses depth,
A fact of the situation,
Let that not stop me from dealing out this refutation,
For although through adversity we can learn from out mistakes,
I would not wish this upon anyone,
Often the lessons come all too late,
For experience is in tow of real-time reality,
And when it finally catches up,
It will fatally shake you,
Wake you up.