Depression Is a Spirit Troll
The worst part is waking up
With wispy, fleeting, figments of anxious dream
Looking at the clock and realizing
It doesn’t matter what time it is anymore
Then there’s the coffee
It tastes so good, but no longer has allure
Then mindless counsel with my laptop
To free my mind and replace the sad fog
That doesn’t leave, but dances, taunting
Into deep dark corners
Where it can continue throughout the day
To bug even the simple code
Copyright © Alison Wimmer | Year Posted 2017
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