Infection

Every day's a futile attempt
To try and be myself
But alas, you grow, you grow on me
Why won't you go away

Where'er I look, I see you there
Close by you always are
A parasite that feasts on me
My friends, my personality

To you life is imaginary
An unfulfilling dream
You're never happy with your cup
You can't rely on me

Stop your ways and change your ways
Just try to learn some sense
Do this so that my wound will heal
And you yourself be free

You always are a pessimist
You only see the dark
It grates my nerves, it makes me mad
Each time that you complain

It is your way, your frame of mind
Contagious all they seem
You are a sickness I don't want
A disease that I don't need

But it's hopeless, I can't avoid
I'm stuck in state of fear
I know that you're quite volatile
That's why my mouth stays shut

Shut up!  Shut up, you blasted fool!
Don't reprimand yourself
Pessimism, it's bound to spread
Just keep away from me!

-Keith Smithson-

Author's Notes:  I wrote this on the program that we received at Renaissance.  I almost stopped after the 4th stanza, but I figured that I wasn't quite done- and nor was the program.  So, I finished conveying this about a certain person...