The War with Myself

Who I am and who I was, in prison together.

My mind is the prison, though jail would be better.

They bicker all day. There is no escape.

I need to rescue myself. I need tights and a cape.

I can't reason with them, who I am and who I was.

One does the opposite the other one does.

They aren't all that different yet they still aren't the same.

I fear they won't stop until one is in chains.

I wish that they'd stop. Try to talk and agree.

Work something out so instead of them, there'd be me.

Who I am is worn down. He's upset. He's depressed.

Who I was pushes on, insisting it's he that knows best.

Every day they do battle. I only sleep when they're done.

Every day I wake up, to see which one has won.

I need both of them. A fact they just won't accept.

This war will go on, until there's none of us left.

Now I appear to be damaged, detached and dull.

I let neither one out, so I'm no one at all.

If I could tell them one thing, it would be this.

There are plenty of reasons they both should exist.

One born of joy, triumph and light.

One born of cancer, sorrow, and strife.

The irony of it, is if they both would retreat.

Together I know, they couldn't be beat.