The sickness was supposed to make me stronger
I was supposed to come out a better person
Someone you’d look up to
Someone with stories.
But when I think back
To the pumpkin days
Of gardens and colors and everything life
I don’t think I am any wiser
The only thing that has changed
Is I don’t feel much
And my words no longer connect
I was supposed to craft art from my pain
The sun was supposed to set after the rain
These were articles I read
What you told me to look forward to
How long do I have to keep waiting?
Ten years ago I was happy
And although nothing lasts forever
These days,
I think I have just grown sour.
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