Comfort Fountain
Mental illness has its own way of breaking our ribs,
When we’re down on our luck,
Locks us up, and make it feel like, in its dungeons of helplessness, we’re forever stuck,
When your heart is overwhelmed with sorrow,
From my comfort fountain, a droplet you can borrow,
I don’t have much to spare,
But maybe it can make you strong enough to bear.
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