Melancholy
9/16/2021
I hope this melancholy never ends.
Because then mania will come into my life and upend.
Like sparkles of doom.
Splattering around the room.
And then my mom walks in.
Seeing my cauldron of sin.
Where I am whipping up a restless song.
Making a cure out of all that is wrong.
Melancholy is not so harsh.
Compared to this feeling that my mind is made of marsh.
Copyright © Angelica Tao | Year Posted 2021
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