Do you feel good?
This was the question put to me
I had to think carefully
Of how to reply
For on a general day
I have to say
Good is not something I feel
Some days, things are just too unreal
My head is in clouds
My brain wrapped in cotton wool
I try to get inspired
Then realise my passion has expired
My joints ache,
My head is in permanent pain
My head feels like it is filled with water
And I don't do things I know I oughta!
Things are just an effort to do
It takes me considerable thought
To even take my dog for her walk
So everything else has to get in the queue
And yet other days
I am filled with a vibrant energy
I have no idea from where it came
I can tackle anything that comes my way
On those days
I can sing and dance
Go through my house like a whirlwind
And still find time to walk the dog
Some days I can go all day
Filled with a fire inside
Then come home, fall in a heap
The fire has died
Those days are few and far between
Most days are a struggle to get through
I live my life in a brain fog
Feeling like I'm in a grey smog
I have to tell this to you
So you will understand
Why
It is difficult for me to try
Most days I would sleep like the dead
Waking up with a heavy head
On those days I find myself sluggish
Dragging my feet like buckets of lead
Some days my heart is full of passion
And I feel like I can take on the world
Then I come to earth with a thud
When I realise that would do me no good
I work on spasms of energy
Some days I can feel good
Other days I feel like my head is in a flood
Then it is difficult to feel anything I should
I live my life with a heaviness inside
It weighs me down I know
I feel like I'm carrying a ton weight
And I have to say I don't feel great
Some days it takes effort to get through
Some days I find it hard to shake off the blue
So when I was asked do I feel good?
I had to reply “I know I should!”
Some days I look at my house,
I look at the clods of dog hair,
The biscuits on the floor
And I really couldn't care
Some days I look at the heaped up clothes
Just waiting for a hot iron press
It's too much, I can't face the challenge
I really couldn't care less
Some days I see the dishes in the sink
I look at them and think
I'll do them later when there are more
And just head off through the door
Some days it really is an effort
Just to get a leg from out the bed
Some days I'd just rather
Forget and stay out of my head
So to ask me if I feel good
Is not something to which I can agree
Most days my life is an effort
To this I would answer readily!
