Riding BipolarImage
Anxiety Questions
Cold hands grip tight
My frozen chest
Wild thoughts feel right
This hero’s quest
Drops of cold sweat
Upon my back
The pattern set
Betrays the lack
The running beads
Enclosing walls
With begs and pleads
My conscience falls
Hunting safety
An old man-child
Beliefs shaky
All fears compiled... Read the rest of the poem on our blog or watch it as a video on the Speaking Bipolar YouTube channel. Links in profile.
https://speakingbipolar.com/anxiety-questions-poem/
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Until next time, keep fighting. Scott
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