The Cure


This sickness, how could it be,
When vitamins don’t work on me?
When nothing helps but makes me worse,
This sickness, it is like a curse.

The cure so simple doesn’t help,
Nor any medicine on the shelf,
Nothing will appease this hunger,
A horror that can only linger.

Go away, foul deadly beast,
That eats my happiness like a feast,
Shoo, go on, please do not stay,
Please, oh please just keep away!

I no longer want this plague,
I do not want sadness so vague,
But it keeps coming back, you see,
It won’t get away from me.

I need it somehow, this sadness so dark,
I’m free as a bird, and sing as a lark,
But when I’m happy, it comes for me,
It will not simply leave me be.

Why do I insist on being so sad?
Why must I continue to feel this bad?
I don not quite understand this thing,
Such as makes me sadly sing.

A disease, a sickness, that’s what I believe,
But I don’t think I’ll ever find a key,
A cure for this, does not exist,
A cure for this, is one thing so missed.

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