Categories
clear cried Poetry sobbed style

I have Become Myself


I had the fright of life

it was  not  worrisome in strife

I panicked and  tweaked all the more

shed tears almost to the score

a fortnight I had been so

it was a nightmare in the go

I lost concentration all the while

not mine in the style

I succumbed to the threat

I started to fret

I cried and sobbed all too much crying-cry-sobbing-sad-depressed

dragging with me my loved ones as such

the phase has passed now

I am clear as much as I know

great and good in a form

smart, cheerful and calm

as ever before in the flow

I have become myself in a slow.