The sound of drip, drip, dripping drops of rain,
drum pitter-patter patterns on my brain.
And I slowly start slip-sliding past sane;
as endless dripping drops drive me insane.
For many miserable months, it pours
and a dank depression drains me of hope.
My misery manifests as bedsores;
deprived of sunlight, I am forced to cope.
It's a moody, melancholy Monday,
another awful,...
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