Poems about Health

I sat with Death in the front seat of my car  Under the old rusted street lamp down the 
Let me know when you meet a child of immigrants who isn’t good at math.
Dear twisted society, You do your job as a prison guard. Making sure we don’t dare to stray too far.
Therein, residing in my mind, is a monster so evil, dark and unkind. Thoughts racing, telling me that I’m hideous.
  Av Stanley Collymore   En deprimerande dag till att börja med eller helt enkelt en
  Av Stanley Collymore   En deprimerende egen dag til å begynne med eller bare en
  Par Stanley Collymore   Une journée déprimante pour commencer ou tout simplement
  By Stanley Collymore   A depressing day of its own to start with or simply one
One pink line, and a second very faint  bus as I am at work; I must show restraint
[Major trigger warning: graphic first-person

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