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


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