Roll my eyes,
mutter some stuff,
jiggle my bellie,
then get a b12 shot.
Whistle some thunder,
then shudder and thump,
interpert this snapshot,
with a dream of your own.
Signs and symptoms, full blown,
mania, visual memory, triggers
this bipoler drug.
rapid cycling, mixed states of
dought, mood diaries filled with
power trips, and the trick, you
never leave the farm.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent poem David but almost sad in ways. 'Mixed states of dought' seems so empty. Great imagery that expresses the sadness of bipolar. Take care.