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In this thread, speak only in limericks


Qris

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Not quite a limerick but figured I'd post it in here anyway... wrote it a looooong time ago

In a state of regression, driven by nothing but my depression.

Mindset overtaken by lack of affection, hate is my only intention.

The solitude drivin' me insane, only seein' things in 2 dimension.

Both arms bound around me, no movement allowed from my straight jacket.

I'm feeling useless and deprived, feeling like I can't hack-it.

Nurses discriminating about my sanity, saying that I lack-it.

Staring at the contents of my room, even though there's nothing at all,

Want me to be sane while trapped in a room with 4 padded walls.

But still, hate was the only thought my head could produce,

Startin' to believe there's too many screws on my head loose.

The doctors readin' my profile, now they callin' me juvenile.

Tellin' myself I don't need help, but they still judge my mental health.

I've reached a dead end, end of the line, there's no way out,

And still, my mind only has one thing to think about,

Hate.

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