My fears. I only wish to cut them away with the sharpest shears. Cut you away, cut away the stupid pain. It always rains when I have this little pity parade. Let's play a game of charades, I'll let you go first. Dazzling dresses, Lord behold her confesses. She suffers to the right, she suffers on the left. Unison pain, and unison games. Smiling bright on one side to the other. A fake unison smile, watch it wash away people's dark. You help others, you do, almost as if you have some selfless flu. Is this a clue? Lord, it may be! Thy there she goes, running again. Or no, that's me. A stupid girl with no life; I should offer her a dull little knife. Cut it away, slowly and not with ease. Rough drafts of happiness, what's meant to be. The unison tears begin to pour even more, and she feels like a broken floorboard. Let it come please, my dreams I've sobbed for. The fragmented lies, and the filling truth. What's more to the girl who never shows emotion, lost in her own little world of commotion. Screams and cries, terrors and more. Welcome to this darkened candy store. The lights rarely shine and the people all whine, begging for freedom to be released from this dreary hell-like world. Except it'll last and you won't ever know, the secrets that lie within. These unison tears might just show depression, but there's more that you'll never even know.
YOU ARE READING
Your Depression is Showing
PoetryThis is just some short things I write about. Some may be about me, but some may not. I hope you don't get depressed while reading this. = Don't copy any of the stories that are presented in this book. Thank you.
