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Depression
The monster in us grows,
just a little, with every
footstep on the pavement,
every breath puffed into the frosty
night air, stemming
from the icy chill of the
long-gone heart.
I feel it, sometimes.
I fear it, sometimes,
in the dead of night it beckons,
I must surrender, it says
So I blast the radio a little louder
and return on my merry way.
Some days, when the light is gone again,
I wonder what I’ve done to earn
my place in this void
and how much I’d
sacrifice
to break free.
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