I have a dark void in my being
That sometimes comes to the fore,
Some people recognise it
Some have never heard it before.
It's like a little stress trigger
That trickles words of regret,
Usually aimed at people I love
We all have it, we use it to upset.
Because the world around us
Brings darkness and no respite,
For the things in our life's
That interfere with our joy and light.
Sometimes people can be crass and cruel
Have no sensitivity to another's persona,
No compassion kindness or embrace
They have no heart they just call you a moaner.
These are the so called busy people
Don't bother me I haven't got the time,
They trigger the stress bubble inside you
That triggers words of regret in speech and grime.
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