AUTHOR'S NOTE: This poem was written straight from my head, so it's kind of erratic when you read it, but please bear with it.
"The most ongoing, and complex war...
is the war fought within one's own self."
thousands of thoughts, some bad, and others worse,
force their way into my mind on a quiet day.
of varied images, at any given time.
Some that fill me with horror, and others with mere disdain.
are these dread images, and essences, of things be it past, present or fantasy.
Which break what was once focused, and send it scattering each, and every way.
in their order, which put my mind, through a never-ending torture.
They take what was once pleasant, and turn it to an image of emotional pain.
I can't do what negative things i think, for fear of hurting others.
Yet, i can't think what negative things i want to do, for fear of hurting myself.
They grow inside my mind,
with but a second.
Once just little tinges of spite,
turned into another world
of stomach wrenching contortion, and confusion.
Now with most diseases theres a cure,
to purge this corruption from my mind for sure.
Positive thinking is the way,
so happiness can win another day.
And now, when all thoughts, and courses,
both good, and bad, have been run,
I'm left with only dumbfounded confusion, and finally...
My poem is done.
(This poem may have been a little offbeat, but thats how i think sometimes, as you can tell)