Moods are like Merry-go-rounds
Where horses move up or downI ride, cycle through, unknowinglyWaiting to guess which way I’ll moveTrapped in my body, I feel the waves rushHigh and low like drops on roller coastersLoop after loop waiting to slow downHow I wish to be steadyWhen my moods don’t feel merryWhen eyes watch over me As if I’m in a house of mirrors And voices whisper rapidly in my earCreating mazes of hallucinations Where I battle until the coast is clearOnly to wait for the next move my horse will Make. In this carnival I call bipolar