I met a little girl
Her name was Sorrow.
Depression was her best friend
Pain and Loneliness her escorts.
Solitude and Quietude were her sisters
Whom she adored.
Together they created a vacuum to tight
And an abyss so deep that none could penetrate.
Unwept tears lay frozen in her eyes
While Hope her caged bird chose to fly away.
Indecision and Insanity stood guard
As Sorrow wasted away
Into another day.

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