In the icy tundras, where the snow knows no end,
Lives a bipolar bear that few ever befriend,
He's not like the others, with a mood that can change,
Sometimes he's up, sometimes he feels strange.
He loves to wander, and explore his domain,
Always seeking new things to avoid feeling pain,
He's never truly happy, or at least for too long,
For his mind can shift, like a bird's elusive song.
His favourite food is fish, fresh from the stream,
But he can't always catch them, as they swim like a dream,
He's easily distracted, and his focus can sway,
Making it hard for him to get through the day.
But there's something special about this bear,
A quality that's unique, beyond compare,
He's a creation of fantasy, a dreamer's delight,
And in the end, he's just a figment of my own mind's might.
Peter Pickering · Bipolar Bear