Bi-PolarAlthough I'm only 24,I might as well be 42with all the things I've gone and doneand all the things I'll never do.Is it any wonder I don't sleepwith all the secrets that I keep?All the things I'd like to say.Maybe. Someday. Not today.Tell people what I really think?If I like them? If they stink?I'd cause more problems than I'd solveand leave hatred that will not dissolve.I plan my life, to no avail.Everything seems set to fail.What is the point? Why should I care?I find the darkness everywhere.It's called "bi-polar;" ups and downs.Manic smiles. Depressed frowns.I cannot speak what I do feelor find the time depression steals.I live with hate. I live with pain.I live the life of the insane.But doom and gloom is not alone.Something else drives these old bones.I may wander valleys every week,but I love the view upon the peaks.I have my lows. I have my highs.They're days I almost touch the sky.I get that spark. I get that light.No care for day. No care for night.