Highs and lows
Ebbs and flows
Feel emo
I lose my pace
Sad and scared
Raw and bare
Feeling rare
I hide my face
Far, forlorn
Newly born
Tattered, torn
Can’t find my place
Run, walk, stop
Pick up, drop
Bottom, top
Can’t win the race
Calm, reset
Cool my jets
Do what’s best
To save some grace
The Melancholy Spitfire 