the moon, the stars, and I are alone.
in the midst of the night, my tears lay unknown.
if pillows could talk, what stories they'd tell,
much sadness expressed in each drop that fell.
yet as time passes on, the moon fades away,
welcoming the dawn of a brand new day.
but the sun doesn't rise in my damaged heart.
it doesn't get brighter. my troubles don't part.
as time passes on, nothing becomes clear.
my brain stays frozen, broken, in fear.
I have memories of days when the sun could be seen
till a dark cloud descended, destroying my being.
gone are the days of the carefree, the contented.
the days here and now are depressed and repented.
so if pillows could talk, would the truth be heard?
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