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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

This is another poem I've posted before (though maybe not here), but it's rather revamped, so I'm posting it again.

 

Depression

 

When all your dreams seem like a pack

Of trash bought in a candy store.

 

It doesn’t matter what you say,

You may Not get another chance.

You may have failed, and failed for good.

 

There just isn’t always Tara.

Maybe you’ve only got your friends,

Sometimes you’ve just screwed up too much-

You’ve lost them too, along the way.

 

You pinch yourself repeatedly,

Maybe this mess is all a dream,

But hope’s the only dream you have.

  • 2 weeks later...
Posted

Peredhil comes in followed by a morose Guido, who has been dressed like Annie, complete to a wig of red curly hair.

 

At Peredhil's bright smile, Guido begins softly singing in a deep slightly off-key baritone.

 

"Tomorrow, tomorrow, I'll love ya, tomorrow, it's..."

 

Peredhil steps forward and begins his voice over.

 

Some times it feel that way

You just can't face another day

You've dissed your friends and they won't play

You've messed your life and don't want to stay

 

But rarely does one door close

That another doesn't open

And if you'll listen I'd suppose

You'll find a way of copin'

 

Cause...

 

Peredhil blends his voice with Guido, who steps forward and bellows,

 

"Tomorrow, tomorrow, I'll love ya, tomorrow, it's only a daaaaay a-waaaaaayyyyyyyy!"

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