Emotions Poem by robert felstead

Is my temper controlled by the moon?
It inflates and withers like a balloon
Fiery outburst from deep within
Trying to control it, where do i begin?
Black rage bellows, hard to control
It hurts my being right to my soul
Out of control, no end in sight
I try to win, to get it right
All around me people try
I have my lows and some highs
I never know if its demon or angel
But I always do try to wrangle
The goodness of my bleeding heart
To give my moods a good head start
Sometimes i'm all sugar and spice
I only ever want to be relaxed and nice
When i'm fine i think people like me
I guess when i'm not people only see
A grey cloud floating in a blue sky
I'm sure they all wish i would fly Away
from them all for peace and quiet
I know when i blow i'm like a riot
All noise and anger, a right royal pain
Everything to lose, nothing to gain
Dispair is cold like a block of ice
Nothing feels good or feels quite nice
I come across with 'not a care '
But people have never been where
I was forced to go, or do the things
To serve the devils who arrive on wings
It seems i can't learn to forget
I've tried so hard to let go, yet
They come back to me while i sleep
During the day, i have to weep
I cant let people know my head
Or all the things i've learnt to dread
I wish one clear bright spring day
I wake and all this has gone away