Lunacy
by Margaret C. Rigsby  

I must have committed some horrendous crime
to have been cursed with this
madness.
Something that I did.
Perhaps
something I did not do?
I want to smash my head against
concrete
while the ooze of madness
slithers down to the lowest place it can find.
The place where my self-esteem resides.
Ah, but death
would surely be better 
than this constant and un-constant
ride on this train.
Speeding through a darkened tunnel
where I never see a light.
There is no light, is there?