There are times
When I feel odd,
The days are bizarre
And my existence is flawed.
The times,
When I feel desolate.
Striving to love,
But all I do is hate.
I am just miserable,
Yearn for something new.
And I wait for it,
From only a few.
The days are hard,
When my eyes
No longer gleam,
And when my echoes,
Turns into a scream.
I fail to persevere,
I fail to cope.
I isolate myself,
And pray for hope.
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