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Okay, this poem is a little more depressing than my poems usually are, buuut I like it anyways ^_^

I wrote this like a year and a half ago or something, and I thought I'd share. I have ADD and OCD (both mild), which is kind of strange, cause they're pretty opposite (ADD makes me totally unfocused and random, and OCD makes me want to make everything perfect, no matter how long it takes), and so this describes how it used to feel for me. I've kind of outgrown them now (thankfully), so I don't really feel this way anymore. But anyone else with either of these things will understand what I mean.

Tell me what you think!

Chaos to the left of me,
Perfection to the right.
I’m bound here in the middle and
The chains are pulled too tight.

You’d think that I’d be balanced
With these opposites of mine;
But opposites do not attract,
So here I am confined.

“Come on!” the others shout to me
As they all rush ahead;
I’m struggling to follow, for
It’s losing them I dread.

I drag my heavy burdens,
My progress very slow,
And with each step the two of them
Are fighting for control.

I come upon a tiny wall;
It’s standing in the road.
Most hardly have to lift their feet
To cross, but with my load

I know that I will just get stuck
(My burdens aren’t light),
And before long, to my dismay,
The two begin to fight:

“Well go on,” says Perfection, “Now
Just hurry up and cross.”
I take a step, “That wrong!” she shouts.
“Remember, I’m the boss!

Each and every move you make
Must be exactly right
Or you’ll have to start again; go quick
Or you’ll be here all night.”

“How boring,” Chaos whines. She grabs
My hand. “I want to play!
There’s plenty more that we could do,
Try this another day.”

“We have already started,”
Says Perfection looking tense.
“Don’t listen to that imbecile,
Don’t keep me in suspense;

It hurts when you don’t do it right.”
And I could feel it too:
Perfection’s pain mimicked in me;
Every moment it grew.

“I’m hurting inside too, you know,”
Says Chaos, and it’s true;
Her pain is now in me as well;
I don’t know what to do.

I cannot please the both of them,
But both I must obey.
So I end up doing nothing
And I can’t move either way.

People all around me stare
And seem to wonder why
I have yet to cross the wall. “You
Are so lazy,” they all sigh.

“You aren’t even trying to
Step over the small wall.”
I shake my head and tell them that
Is not the case at all.

“I’m trying,” I explain to them,
“I really, truly am.
I want to make it past this wall,
There’s just no way I can.”

“Don’t lie,” somebody hisses,
“There’s no way that is true.
No one else has had that problem,
So tell us, why should you?

You’re capable of doing it,
We can see nothing wrong.”
I cry as they all walk away
And scream when they are gone,

For when I described my burdens
There was something I forgot:
Though I can always see them, those
Around me, they cannot.

I hate that I am bound here, and
I’m longing to be free,
But even more than that I wish
Someone could finally see

That there’s Chaos to the left of me,
Perfection to the right,
And I’m dying in the middle:


These chains are pulled too tight.​