For some strange reason, depression seems to fuel my muse...I wrote this poem way back and just never got around to posting it. Suffice to say, I wasn't the most cheerful person back then.


Why do I feel

So empty inside?

Why must my happiness

Be so often faked?

I'm hurting

I'm bleeding

But nobody's seeing

Will I ever be whole?

Or will I stay trapped here

Lost, and alone?


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