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Depression is rain pouring so hard
Lightning and thunderstorms
Big waves and sinking boat
All at once inside of you
It can be sunny sometimes
But you’re trapped in a room
with no door and windows
Walls are hospital gray
With words spray painted
Only you can see
We should be happy
To the fullest
And not be scared
Of what might
Happen next
i continue to write sad poems
even though i don’t feel sad anymore
maybe it’s the comfort
maybe i have nothing else to write anymore
we don’t write to be good
we write to feel good

we don’t write to be something
we write to feel something
She writes too hard
But never cries
If comfort is in these words
How many pages
Should she fill with ink
I am in search for a happy place
But how would I find it
If I don’t even know how to be happy
In the first place
They will talk
And talk
Even when you’re gone
The bad and good
Won’t really matter
As long as
You know who you are
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