OBERON
The flowers in my garden
grow down.
Their colour is pain
Their fragrance sorrow.
Into my eyes grow their roots
feeling for tears
To nourish the black
hopeless rose
within me.
Nervous breakdown
Bournemouth
February 1967
Confused Brain
I hope this is going to be a better day
than it feels
I couldn't sleep for worry
Then I couldn't wake my mind.
Am I well at all
Or is it just my brain confusing me.
Hopeless person
October 2008
Dih
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