Depression To Love


I'm never understood.
I don't believe
I am loved.
It is a lie to say that
I am happy.
It is true that
Nobody appreciates what I do.
I would be lying if I said that
I am special.
I do believe that
Nobody will remember me when I grow up.
It is foolish to presume that
I can succeed.
In the future
I will blend into the crowd, and that I will be a nobody.
It can't be possible that
My parents love me.
It is true that
I love nobody in return.
It can no longer be said that
I work hard.
It is evident that
My generation is uncaring and cruel.
It is false to suggest that
I am happy.

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