Who Is It?

Thinking, blinking
Rolling, on going
Ever expanding
All ready
Sometimes steady
Action packed
A little cracked
Perhaps
Is this a sign of a sick mind

Hard, unyielding
Unfeeling, maybe
Untouchable yes
Sometimes depressed
Poetic, intelligent
Maybe and yes
But
Is this a sign of a sick mind

Always there
Sometimes not, in
Despair, but what’s
She got; not a lot
Nothing, or no thing
She can’t even sing
She can’t write but
She can read
She was born to lead
No, of
Course not
She trouble, yes
Can you guess
Her problem
She’s insecure, and not
Sure, of herself
Or anyone else
She’s a total mess
And let’s confess
She looks the part
She hides her heart
With no expression
A face of stone
She’d rather be
All alone
She’s lonely and she’s
Scared
And hardly is she
Prepared for her future
Why go on? She must
She can, she can’t
But let me ask
You a question
I’ve asked you twice
Before
I know I’m quite
The bore but listen
Someone please
I’m scared, I think
Of suicide, a free ride
Who would care if
I died, or should I
Say her, it was her
We were talking about
Wasn’t it?
Let’s go back
And see
No!
I’m wrong
It was
Me