Bitter soul in need of a genuine heart, a cloud of depression unable to pour,
a hole, forever apart.
Indifference in a shallow world,
music without meaning,
bitter soul in need of a genuine heart, a cloud of depression unable to pour,
“life” not living.
A smile ready to crack, on call,
no light, not enough from a SAD lamp,
outside, it is the same wall.
Bitterness, not able to purge,
an artist with just one color.
A window to the world, covered by a dusty drape,
a long winter, unable to forever escape.
Stuck, with no vengeance to seek, a plane in a stale, ready to fall.
feeling in gloom, in a world where others are given the freedom to bloom.
Do not look at me like that, do not read between my written lines and judge,
just listen, and know this is not me.