A NOT SO GREAT POEM
Everyday feels so plain.
Because instead of finding fame,
I find pain.
It's not depression.
I swear; I'm not sick.
But everyday feels like just another, making me more sad then ticked.
"It's just a phase, you'll get through it." They all say...
But you'll find out one day,
it's not just a sickness, and it's not depression.
It's a cloud of loneliness
that's blocking my ray of sunshine and fun.
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I write poems and random thoughts here
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