Ficly

A poem I wrote in Sixth Grade

Insecurity
A conniving reality
Who forces us to do some things
And later wonder why
Depression
A merciless predator
Who cuts our hearts
And wrists
And blinds
Our minds
To hate
Ourselves,
Our lives,
Who rules our thoughts
And manifests herself
As we silently scream
Bringing forth a stream
Of scarlet
Pain, Sentient

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