I am a The crow

I am an outcast

The crow among the doves

The girl you walk right past

Born with depression

Not to mention the tension

Of fighting with yourself is a quiet hell


My life is controlled by a bell

Always telling me where to go

Spreading my time out to accommodate

Classes with those I hate


It may have been by chance

That I had to grow up fast

With a rocky past
 I was born with a knife in hand

Just to face what's on this land


Tear stained

Halfway drained

My words chained to the bed

So my forbidden words can't be said

I AM the one that speaks

Speaks for those

Who arose just to plea

To be set free


My words may be a little jumbled

May even be fumbled

I may even mumble

But with a damaged mind

It happens sometimes


I cannot lie

I couldn't be cool if I tried

Hardly anyone looks my way

Already dead inside

The rest just flies by


I am Brianna

Given the chance

My words will put you in a  trance


I have allot to say

 But at the end of the day

No one listens  anyway

I am the crow amongst doves

That just wants to be loved

This poem is about: 


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If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741