I am bipolar, a madman some say,
Five or six times, they've locked me away.
This one sitting here, with paper and pen,
Writing all he can, before the madness begins.
They call it manic, when the transformation takes over,
I'm not manic-depressive, I'm grandiose bipolar.
Sometimes I am the observer of terrible things,
Other times with pen and paper, my poetry sings.
I am a veteran and I have to admit,
The V.A. hospital I go to is perfection well knit.