Desolation cuts deeper than the knife

No pills this dysphoria can cure
this life’ll destroy me for sure
nearly 49 reaching for a sight of ten
needing a glimpse of me now and again

Looking to trust,no trust to find
paranoia gnawing at my mind
disjointed days,emotional haze
it’s always been this way

Wish i was free,born again
Wish for sunshine feel the rain
angry tells me i’m alive
desolation cuts deeper than the knife

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You’re alive man. It aint always great, but your alive. Keep on posting.

Find the joy in the little things like hey I can still read or watch TV or play a game. I feel what your poem says though