The Cursed Poem by Bill Hallsworthy

Good memories seem few and far between.
Green seems to be dulling pain,
but it keeps raining.
Perceived bad memories replaying.
Saying change is needed,
but change isn’t easy,
I’m a baby,
I need someone to feed me.
Take me away from here,
clean the window so its clear,
Fix the steering and the gears.
No more tears I can see where I’m going,
but I can only go slow, cause I don’t know the road.
But still I can’t help speeding,
feeling the wind in my face.
I’m racing to get to a better place,
or am I chasing another high?
When people see me now, they just sigh,
and say damn man, how do you get by?
I say I try not to think too much.
I sleep until lunch,
punch a few billies and lay on the couch.
But this life style can’t last.
Sure time moves fast but I need to ask,
will I ever be me again?
Will I ever be free from pain?
Will I remain healthy and sane?
Or will I get worse?
Someone please break this curse…