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I did not give up. I let go. They are two different things. Letting go is the opposite of giving up. Letting go is moving forward. Letting go is going against every single heartbeat, swallowing every tear, cutting every string. Few people realize this, but letting go takes more courage, more strength, than holding on.
Promises are meant to be broken,
That's what they always say.
But my face is always soaken,
With the tears I've shed today.

If promises don't last,
Then why am I living?
It means that my entire past,
Wasn't worth the giving.

Living day to day is stressful,
When happiness evades you.
Nothing seems to fill this hole,
That leaves my feelings askew.

Broken promises are meant to be,
Or perhaps never to have been said.
Now after all the pain, I see,
What should've stayed in my head.
Her face was pain stricken while she lie asleep.
You could see the effort in her smile, although her grin was weak.
She stayed searching for something of some substance,
She couldn't find any but she'd keep searching the rest of her existence.
Always in bed crying or writing down a piece of her,
As a result of her fear of her mind, she was thought of as a wanderer.
With a mindset unlike anyone's else's,
She had an opinion on everything, very thoughtful ones that is.
She never let anyone tell her what she could & couldn't do,
But she was her biggest enemy, & that could never be truer than the truest truth.
Of course she wanted to be happy,
But the Depression she was battling with was tough & scrappy.
For her there was no escaping the realms of black,
But she knew she could find her way, because she needed to get back.
She needed to return to the life of love & smiles,
She wouldn't stop looking, even if she had to for miles.
She would get to her final destination,
She would not let anything get in her way, she would avoid procrastination.
It was truly sad how every time she tried she fell down,
But she need not worry because on her head, held high was her crown.
No matter what tripped her & made her fall,
She would not succumb to black's intoxicating call.
See her crown was beginning to drop but it would not plummet.
Because though her climb was tough, she's approaching its summit.
You cannot say she is at the top,
But you can say she'll get there because she will not stop.
So sick & so tired of these nights of tears,
She's had them for so long, no not days, or months, but for years.
At seventeen years of age it's heartbreaking to hear such a story,
But don't let your heart fill with uneasiness, because in a short while she'll reach her glory.
A tale like hers is common & unfortunate.
Depression is something we can beat, so long as we stick together, we will be victorious, I'm sure of it.

— The End —