Depression Poem by Lev Brekhman
Depression
Little flutterings of hope
Are maybe the heart's peril.
It's much better ever mope,
Knowing you're really ill.
Flame of hope is perdition
For your poor, depressed soul.
Cry aloud, in good rendition,
World is really very foul.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: irony
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5/2/2024 9:01:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
