Christopher Sugatan Fornesa

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Depression.

Falling down

You tend to frown

And as you drown

You see your crown.

It just takes time

For you to mime

You hear the chime,

Then, as it rhymes.

It makes no sense

So why so tense?

Feels so immense.

I’m on the fence.

Sometimes you rise

But as a guise

You seem so wise

Before demise. . .