They call it dysthymia
They call it depression...
Sitting all alone,
In a cold blacked out room...
**Free-styled no-rhyme poem***
Winter's wind lash across my face...
Thinking of the past,
each night I go to bed...
I called you on your birthday, but you never...
Now i am sitting here all alone...
Full of poise; full of beauty
Full of elegance and grace...
A girl runs out of a house,
tears streaming down her face...
An understatement of confusion
Sleepless nights, little time...
The coldness on the razor upon my warm flesh
As I look down, all the scars from passed events...
Once upon a time
There was a single key...
Look at me
see my pain...
See these tears
...they fall cause of you...