By Arcassin Burnham
Seeing the smile of a,
Young infant,
Makes everything okay,
Unsettling like repenting,
Replenished,
Raining inside,
I can't be what you want me to be,
But you don't hear me,
Like what are you ignoring,
I don't think you meant it,
Its you,
I confide,
So determined to quit,
Afraid to forge in the devils pit,
Guilty conscience,
Left your wrist slit,
Seeing your child again,
Bringing depression to an end.
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