The summer sky is a lie, it tells
no truth.
Because how can the sky be so
clear from clouds when my
life has nothing but dark
clouds in them?
No end to my distress, all I
have is this pen.
No friend nearby to tell me
my mind is not functioning properly
No end to the voices in my
head, they talk frequently,
constantly
No silver lining, so how can the
sky be so clear?
Summer skies summer skies,
oh how they do lie.
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