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Depression owns my soul
It is this nasty thing.
Something like a disease.
Controlling me.
It has taken my soul.
It has destroyed all my goals.
Depression you have taken my soul.
You make very sad.
Becuase i am bad.
And not glad.
Depression is pulling my strings.
With the hart ache that it brings.
But my ears ring.
Depression give me back my soul.
Let me have some goals.
Dont leave me with holes.
An aching hart.
And all the sadness.
Realese me please
poem
by
Amy Louise Kerswell
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