A head can be useful
But also a chore
A burden to bear
Ideas to share
Ideas can be lovely
Also a wrench
Torture or pleasure
In uneven measure
Measure your fortune
Dispense with your woes
That’s easier said
Than done as it goes
As when darkness has you
In the palm of its hand
A head can be useless
The mind cannot plan
For a future that’s torture
Life has no answer
Sleep seems much better
When you’re under attack
There is no intruder
Or external invader
God loves you so
So much that he’s made ya
Made ya pathetic
Unable to deal
With feeling these feelings
These feelings you feel
But love will come back
It’s as simple as that
Nothing is bad
But it passes, with time.
