(The actual poem.)
Idiopathic epilepsy
They say they dont know
Basically assuming im mental
But they have no way to show
Maybe they dont care
Maybe they are wrong
I think they are testing
Someplace far from home
Ive noticed anger and frustration
I have to have things right
My mask slowly dissolving
No longer wanting to fight
Weakeness no
Pain i think
But i know one thing
Dont say you dont know
And call it epilepsy
YOU ARE READING
My war.
PoetryI have been diagnosed, ripped apart, shot down, kicked around. But ill be on broadway. Even if i have to buy a street, name it broadway and perform. In all seriousness, instead of sleeping forever, i wrote out my war.
