War Machine

By    

My words are like a weapon,
the meaning cuts deep,
At war with my mind,
no prisoners to keep.
A genius and a madwoman battle in my head,
wish one of them would win before I'm the one that ends up dead.
Am I brilliant or insane? Will I ever find out?
Caught up in this battleground, filled with self doubt.
So much at stake, to the victor goes the crown,
One minute I'm on top, the next one I'm down.
Still standing my ground though the outlook seems bleak,
A warrior at heart, this battle isn't for the weak.
Bleeding, broken, trying to get up off the floor,
exhausted, hope is fading, I can't take myself much more.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem