This poem ("tortured artist") is from my "Open Your Mind" collection, I hope you enjoy.
Why I Seldom Smile
Torture befriends suffering
suffering adopts sorrow
sorrow disables my smile,
caring less of a tomorrow.
Agony feeds off my hate
hate doesn’t think so hate I store.
Actions speak volumes, but freedom is heard.
Temptation knocks…I won’t open the door.
Insecure relates to paranoia
paranoia stays in one place;
that place being said is my mind
my mind has a sense, but no face.
The past haunts the ever present
the present questions the future.
The future is very uncertain,
what’s uncertain remains a blur.
Hard to breathe, I fiddle with reason,
is it possible for this much stress?
My stress has stress that accumulates
making me seldom smile, I guess.