I sit and stare at four bare walls

I walk along the bare tiled halls

My feet are bare, my mind is blank

I feel as though I walk the plank

I do not speak, my words are mine

There are no roses on the vine

No fork nor spoon nor knife have I

I cannot sleep, I only cry

My clothes are torn, my heart it bleeds

No one cares about my needs

There is no window in my room

There is no sun, only the gloom

There is no music I can sing

They’ve stolen away my wedding ring

I have no chair, I sit on the floor

I have no key to the only door

My bed is broken, my pillow shred

I have no place to lay my head

My dreams, once vivid, now only clouds

Even my breathing is too loud

No telephone to call my friends

I wonder when depression ends

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