Learn more about other poetry terms

A glow up for me was havin’ the realization Depression was my setback, not my damnation I don’t think I ever grew up, but I definitely glowed And realized my sadness belonged in the commode
If I were the King for a Day Her hair would never turn gray Crowds would applaude and Children would sing, of the last words she had to say.   For when her last breath would go out
I spend my days propped up by Prozac. It keeps me afloat, keeps me from sinking into the darkness. Sometimes it is still not enough to keep me above the grey.  I always seem to be
Subscribe to Prozac