I cannot find the reason,
For the change in every season,
where each day is the same;
insane.
I daily contemplate the knife,
as I view my worthless life,
like a passion play for all
to see.
And the hours slip away,
as the days drag into grey,
the years become a burden
on my mind.
Awake in my lonely room,
I find within the gloom,
sad reality and the fact
that I am home.
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