it rhymes
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Yes I am bipolar.
Yes I don’t trust well.
Yes I’m troubled dawn to dusk-
Submit myself to hell.
And I know it’s not your fault,
Your inclination guides you.
You simply do what makes you smile,
Persephone is dead, though the sun still shines
And the lake across the field reflects a cloudless sky.
But the branches of trees are empty and bare
