Petals In The Grass

This Tale

Here's my story it's not for sale
Melancholia on my trail
I run and run to no avail
Depression covers me like a veil
My complexion getting extremely pale
Tattered, worn, and very frail
A once fresh start turns oh so stale
Sorrow forever seems to prevail
It never misses one detail
Not at all paroled from my jail
My appeals always will fail
Lightly I sob and begin to wail
Seal my coffin with your nail
Death is the ending to this tale


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This Tale

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