Be Aware of Me

I began with primitive fight or flight,

Within a forgotten long ago time;

Now I haunt my captives with endless fright,

Much fear spoken of me through prose and rhyme.


Within my cruel, pounding ancient heart,

There thrives no trust or kindly compassion;

No soft beauty to kind souls I impart,

For stark imprisonment is my fashion.


Little do I care for pleasant neatness,

But cripple victims with anxiety;

Poppies fall in peacetime from my duress,

Many scorned for sins by false piety.


Be aware rather than beware of me,

Be aware more of pain than threat to thee...


I force my captives some to scrub and clean,

Others in filth I still pierce fear-soaked mind;

I shame them all wherever they have been,

Cruel laughter has followed from those blind.


But pity me my broken, darkened soul,

Those who imprison are prisoners too;

Escape to free me and break my control,

Then I could find kindness, for I am you.


Relieve me from eternal winter's day,

Let absurd thoughts turn to soft loving words;

Allow me magic of bright month of May,

So dark thoughts turn to words that are songbirds.


So be aware of me, who do I be?

Obsessive compulsive