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Twisting and turning in darkness of night,
The mind erasing the color of blight.
Id and ego, a fungi of rust,
Pleasantly reeking of cankero..
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---none---
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To be honest, I do not like this poem but I "suffer" from depression and other mental "disorders" and poetry is a way to escape. Maybe others will rel..
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I've been in a state of depression lately and this is just a simple poem to pull me out of the downward spiral that is sadness.
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