poem 62- rewrite the message

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I'm stuck in a asylum. The asylum in my head. It's telling me I'm going mad with the voices in my mind. I have reached my climb. I'm going insane. The distant voices are yelling my name. White roses turning red. Blood is spilled and I have to leave my words unsaid. Voices of people who want me to end. But then I was told I will withstand. The darkness surround me and I have no light. But then I realized on the outside that the light is me. I'm no mental person, but my dome is getting clogged and fogged up, that I cannot focus. My mental stability is going low, I can't change because that's how the flow goes. Is this a story? No this was message, rewrite it in your own words. -mommamafia

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