Crisis

It's like a mid-life crisis
There is no reason for this
It's the pain of sheer bliss

The feeling of it is queer
Nothing sensible seems clear
Now I must be sincere

It feels quite nice to get hurt
Spread more of the dreadful dirt
Nice acts are an alert

Being rejected feels good
I may not be understood
If only I once could

I want to shave my head bald
Then what would I now be called
Mean words can only scald

Please let me escape from life
No more of this pain and strife
Cut them out with a knife

Often I think about death
Somehow I still have my breath
Never will I use meth

Sudden desire for change
For things that are really strange
This mind is in derange

The simplest way is the best
Engrave this phrase in a crest
Clutter is a wild pest

Acting out of character
Time flies away like a blur
This too I must concur