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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