Thinking too much.

Writhing in Pain.

It's all made up,

Inside my Brain.

Thinking aloud.

Pray, what's the point?

I only know

To Disappoint.

Just go! Oh no,

I've said too much.

Can someone give

My Brain a crutch?

It hurts too much

No cure? I plead.

To run from all

These thoughts, they bleed.