It really isn't all that exciting; just an old poem that I wrote when I was younger and more 'angsty' and knew everything. However, I like how it was constructed so I'm going to let you all see it.
It has no official title.
My health is degenerating at a fairly rapid rate;
Could an early death at age 16 truly be my fate?
I hope it ain't but if it is I'd like to take the time
To say a couple things to you before I go in a simple rhyme.
I've loved and lost and must admit I'd've rather never loved at all
Because the pain that came from losing made my heart a car that won't not stall.
And longing for the touch of one who turned out to be a whore
Makes me sick enough to want to shut on love every goddamn door.
I try to keep them open but the bitterness that was spawned
Calls to me to burn the world, turn the human sea into a pond.
And I've realized something about myself: there's a crack way deep inside.
It seems I should refer to "we" instead of saying "I".
Because a new perspective has awakened and it lives next to the old
And it snarls as it watches and when it speaks this I am told:
"Look out at all these weakling sheep dressed up in the furs of wolves.
They think their costumes put them on the top but next to us they're only fools."
At first I was put off by this new misanthropic voice
But more and more I find these thoughts enter by my own choice.
Then at night arrives the questions, is this evolution or am I insane?
I hope for the former but I feel the latter when I look into our brain.
Though I outward may seem stable, inward I am torn
For when the original almost died, a new recipe was then born.
But when the veteran felt recovery the rookie hid but did not leave
So now within a single shell there are two different kinds
And for listening in I bid you thanks from a truly darkled mind.
I didn't leave a date on it, so I don't know when exactly it was written except for some amount of years ago. I admit it isn't very subtle but it got the job done for what I was going for at the time - looking for a way to call myself crazy without actually saying so. I've learned since then that I am not, in fact, crazy - though many may try to persuade you otherwise - but that rebound is total bitch.
Oh, right, I know it's late but: happy new year, merry Kwanza, have a jolly Christmas or whatever it is you did over the holiday season. Wait, I got it!
(belated) Happy/Merry ______!