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Poem depicting the internal workings of someone suffering from mental health issues. |
| Nothing is wrong, Everything is right, Yet I am stuck in a fog, Losing this mental fight, They say help is medicine, They say that’s all I need, To me that’s a sin, I’d much rather bleed, I know I’m not well, This no longer I can deny, But I’m too afraid to tell, So alone I sit and cry, The real me is lost, Not yet found, I wonder the cost, To be mentally sound |