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Gloriane Conover Can’t shake off this moldy melancholy and murky manner My sweet tooth is thirsty for a tablet to ease the trepidation Trying to resist the craving of being out of my being As my pills sit on the highest rusty shelf and yodel my name I am a lopsided emotional mess Who is lucky in lots but lost in lunacy An idiotic undiagnosed disorder A pathological psychosis Of a pathetic miserable missy Incarcerated in a mind of mayhem Waiting for my deadline to dissolve this dementia |