I was wishing,
My brain was missing.
I hear it hissing.
It’s really dissing.
And insisting on reminiscing.
In the abyss I seem to be kissing.
Quite dismissing for I search for blissing.
We used to debate.
Now it just wants to hate.
It’s never late,
For that date.
With hate it seems to satiate.
I hate to think it is my fate.
Maybe I can rewind.
And it will be more kind.
If I can only free my mind.
And get in-line and not be blind.
I’m sure I’ll find it’s not a grind.
This rhyme of unkind on which it dines.
Surely, I can leave behind this frame of mind.
But for now, I’m stuck in a strange game.
For which I have no name.
A blame game that leads to the same lame shame.
Hall of fame for the untamed membrane.
Mind meld of insanity maimed.
For which my brain refrains.