Here we go again.
Another poem focused
on the past, focused on
sins.
Another stanza of a
pain so deep inside,
that there’s no way out
from within.
Days go by and it never left,
Depression, obsession, and
a little possession,
It’s demonic,
and not right.
But suffering
never ends.
Breathe. Inhale. Live. Die.
Smoke and mirrors,
all the time.
Here we go again.
Another poem,
another line,
Written and signed
By the artist who lost
the will to live and survive.
