I have no idea what I was doing with this poem. It was kind of inspired off an abstract drawing I made.
It’s growing in my head
But I push it aside like it’s dead
It keeps nagging and piling up
I can’t tell if it’s good or bad
Until it’s too strong to ignore
And it’s too late to get rid of
By then there isn’t much to do
Except wait until it finally goes
But it can always come back like a recurring fungus.