I'm under the impression
I'm under the impression
That everything is in suspension
I'm sliding on home trying to avoid the issue
I think I'm going crazy, I know I'm going crazy
hearing all your opinions,
I wasn't really happy
I wasn't really happy
You'll win the battle, but you lose us the war
I'm under the impression
I'm under the impression
that this subtle depression will subside in the morning
I wasn't really happy?
dealing with losing someone you love is a horrifyingly miserable experience that no advice can help as much as a hug.
(I wrote this when I was probably 14 or 15, and I've only made a slight edit in the poem to adjust its meaning to more appropriately fit my morals, that being of which I believe that affection is a choice, love is a force you can not ever control. You either do or you never did/haven't yet loved the individual, there is no in-between, love can not be lost just neglected and abandoned.)