Pages, pages and pages of despair

With every page, can you hear my heart tear

Some pages are pleasant, breaks of sunshine

I would just die if life was constantly unkind

I wish I could just express scenes of beauty’s domain

Of lovely spring day, or kissing in the rain

Early morning dew on purple & lilac petals

Soft soothing wind blowing in bright green meadows

Who would want to always hear about my depression?

My confusions, anger, chaos, and severe regressions

Who in their right mind would want to really love me?

Who would want this ambassador of melancholy?

I guess I could write of my babies’ birth, that image is great

For the eyes of the beholder, a semi normal picture I’ll paint

But where in the world can I vent my frustration with life

No telling what can occur, wine up craving my skin up with a knife

Damn, this one is not a bit better, maybe even worst

Being able to express flaws within me, is it a blessing or a curse?

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