You can try to break my fortitude You can try with all your might I will never concede and accept defeat In the dark I will be the light Many have made the effort over the years Many have come and tried Through the pitter patter of the rain And catastrophic ebony nights To break the strength in my back and the Ability in dire circumstances not to take flight I will stand tall in the raging storm And for what is right If you’re waiting for me to cower And out of scare , run and hide You will be sorely disappointed And be forced to bid your time
I lock one in a bubble of desperation For I am a mirthless, colourless preoccupation Making one wander aimlessly, dismally And fidget through the hyperventilation . I create a tensed, taut vulnerability Obnoxiously dipped in gross suspicion. I produce a stomach full of butterflies And a sweaty, sickly depressed situation That is unpleasantly, squeamishly restless A panicky gloomy submission. Never do I relax my grip for I am a grave, destitute, dark condition I cause sweat and embarrassment And a sinking feeling of dejection. Fearfully they submit to my authority For I create a ruthless sense of destitution Where one finds it easier to succumb To the feeling of worthlessness and it’s combination Of hopelessness and crippling insecurity - Of shivers, scare and haunting humiliation. I thrive on the jittery angst and dismay I am the nervousness of resonating rejection The exclusion and embarrassment Of renunciation and finally elimination.