The young woman was always gloomy
“But it’s okay”
Her therapist would say
“Everyone has bad weeks”
But she had bad months
No, she had a bad life
But things were okay in the end
She had books to help her hide
She had friends that pretended to care
She had that one hat with the feather
And an amazing sense of realism
That she knew not everyone had
Yet there was still something missing
Some piece to her that was just empty
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