Oh what strange curse,
A missing verse,
Should peer from out the fog,
With brittle teeth,
It fell beneath,
Bipolar’s wretched bog,
It chose to roam,
In parts unknown,
Until it fell to ground,
Where words could spark,
In places dark,
And light each thought profound.
And if this curse,
Gave missing verse,
A reason to subside,
We have to ask,
Is this great task,
A reason now to hide,
We choose to search,
For things that lurch,
As dreams are sent afoot,
But darkened skies,
Bring sunken eyes,
When madness goes kaput.
So if said curse,
Should make things worse,
Don’t dither in your seat,
Dispel the mess,
Of life’s distress,
And rise from your defeat,
So many roads,
To conquer loads,
Push on through fearsome choice,
And don’t be terse,
This missing verse,
Will help you find your voice.
© The Complicated Bunny – 27 Jun 2022
So I was going through my list of poetry in the numbered order they were written as I wanted to see if they could possibly represent a mood chart over the past 22 months of writing. I noticed that I had no poem numbered 87. It was completely missing! Generally my OCD is impossible to ignore so it’s a mystery what happened to it. I decided I definitely needed a poem 87, to fill the gap and to complete my list and appease the OCD gods!
The Complicated Bunny 