Panic Attacks
By kaz4sim
Not sure when they startedNot sure how or whyBut a feeling of intense fearA dread that you will dieIt starts off quite mildlyBut grows at a rapid paceIt removes you from societyFrom half of the human raceSuddenly the thingsThat you used to do beforeAre filled with fear and panicSo you do those things no moreBefore you know what’s happenedYou’ve become a near recluseIts hard to break the habitIt’s a path you do not chooseThe doctors and the therapistsOffer potions, talk and pillsBut it doesn’t stop the panickingThe sweating and the chills“Don’t be daft” folks often say“You’ll be okay with me”But they don’t get that feelingOf a panic attack you seeWell, I’m trying to break the habitOf relying on someone elseIt the habit of my lifetimeAnd it’s hard to do myselfI hope that in the futureI’ll be back to me once moreAnd I’ll not shake and panicEach time I open my door Written October 21st, 2001 © on Oct 20 2001 08:22 PM PST 0 • 12
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"Not sure when they startedNot sure how or whyBut a feeling of intense fearA dread that you will dieIt starts off quite mildlyBut grows at a rapid paceIt removes you from societyFrom half of the human raceSuddenly the thingsThat you used to do beforeAre filled with fear and panicSo you do those things no moreBefore you know what’s happenedYou’ve become a near recluseIts hard to break the habitIt’s a path you do not chooseThe doctors and the therapistsOffer potions, talk and pillsBut it doesn’t stop the panickingThe sweating and the chills“Don’t be daft” folks often say“You’ll be okay with me”But they don’t get that feelingOf a panic attack you seeWell, I’m trying to break the habitOf relying on someone elseIt the habit of my lifetimeAnd it’s hard to do myselfI hope that in the futureI’ll be back to me once moreAnd I’ll not shake and panicEach time I open my door..."