Being sentimental
Sent me mental
Being sentimental
Makes me detrimental
To my sensational
Words I write
Beside my frustration
Trying to get it right
I’ve tried to strip it down
Return back to the start
But it’s hard
When my part in the
Art is heartless
I feel like my heart’s
Just an empty carcass
My mind’s like a dart
But I can’t regardless
Of my soul harness
That’s strapping me in
And confining the din
Of my screaming mind
And I know I can’t find
The right thing to say
But maybe, just maybe
Its better that way
Being sentimental
Sends me mental
Being sentimental
Makes it fundamental
Crisis not averted
Cause it’s existential
Crisis inverted
Onto me, it’s mental.