Friday, November 11th

Dear diary,

Dark Days

Melancholy me in thorns around,
Dark, depressed days surround.
Confidence crushed, confusion crowned,
Here and there just fears, failures found.
Sadness, sorrow, screaming sound
Alone, me with whispering, whistling wound.
In pain and discouragement, I'm drowned,
Cuffs of crying and blames bound,
Burns and scars of breakdown.
Is there a yard or a grave to ground?

prachi