The year is 1997. I'm sitting at my desk in sixth period Creative Writing class, about to pass in my assignment, "Poems for Every Occassion: Wretched Little Poems about Misery and Depression." Hmm...I don't think I'd found my happy place yet. Let's take a look, shall we?
Manic Depressive
I wonder why I'm still alive;
How did I manage to survive
As this sad and lonely soul?
Every day it only gets worse
I just can't seem to end this curse --
I've been jailed for life without parole.
If only I were someone who
Wasn't me at all, but someone new
Then I'd throw the old me on the coal.
But all I'll ever be is me
And I guess that's not the worst...