LOCK

Locked in a prison of grief.  Vice gripes hold my heart.  I move about in a whirl of nothing. I try not to feel sorry for myself. But when I consciously think about it I shut it off.  I want to be okay, it will never be.   A waterfall
of tears flow daily. Will I ever be ok? I have not a glimpse of the answer. Peace don’t step on my heart.

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