A Litany of Symptoms

I do not like the way I feel,

I'll crack up, blow a fuse and squeal.

I find myself an awful mess,

An awful truth it is, I guess.

I dread the dawn, and dread the night;

I hate I don't.. I hate I might...

I cannot find my inner peace,

My inner passions will not cease.

I need to break this devilish spell.

I need not feel quite this unwell.

I do not ail, I am not ill.

I have no reason to be shrill.

I am afflicted, in much distress,

And much, much more, I do confess!

I rant and rave and rage and roar.

I'd like to settle every score.

And when I think of love at all...

In love, its seems, I'm sure to fall.

And when I think of love at all...

In love, its seems, I'm soon to fall!