The constant sorrow
My homicidal depression
Has turned into
A mild headache
All of my complaining
About how horrible
My life is
Turns out to be lies
I thought I had
The worst end of the stick
I heard from others
The showed me I don’t
The constant sorrow
My lethal depression
Has turned into
A small pain
My life is gaining focus
But losing inspiration
I’m losing thoughts
Here and there
Until I’m out of ideas
Now that constant sorrow
My murderous depression
Has turned into
Complete nothingness
But it worries and sickens me
Because now I have a purpose
But I don’t know what it is
So I feel bad for myself
And I get a
Killing depression
 
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