Messing it up – a poem

You have a lot to be content about,
but being bipolar you don’t see that.
You mess things up really bad.
I costed you friends.
Your whole world is crumbling,
and you are falling
deep
deeper
in the rabbit’s hole.
You won’t find your way out again.
Not without any of them.
A mad hermit you’ll become,
tiresome
dumb
creature.
Is this your future,
or can it still change.
Not if you and reality aren’t on the same page.

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