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Oct 2018
For weeks now,
the rain is incessant,
There is a sickness within,
dark and unpleasant,
and it festers,
half in the past, stuck in the present.

It is within me,
this illness not spoken,
I was a boy,
that is now broken,
I am a man,
not yet awoken.

I have not seen the sun,
I cannot feel warm,
I have not left the house,
I cannot be harmed,
I keep to myself,
and I snooze the alarm.

I feel it again,
like all hope is lost,
Like a window,
all covered in frost,
I don't know what I want,
or how much it costs.
Alejandro Medellin
Written by
Alejandro Medellin
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