Autumn 8th

I’m not the antidepressant that you thought I could be.
Perhaps I never was
And here I am, standing on an empty deck
Without my queen of hearts

Pushed by agony through the long days defeat
Seen through depression walls, built with heavy bricks
Each made sullen by a persons past remorse

But I lie awake
Driven by an unknown factor
That contributes to the swollen life
Of the beaten down and sore

Your most profound decision is my deepest regret
Born on Autumn 8th
Here dies a man
Who has never lived before

Autumn 8th