Jess Russell
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Seasons of Depression

In the midst of winter
There was a cold chill
A dark, lonely place 
For a large blue pill

In the growing spring
There was a loud ring
But I did not answer
In fear of what it would bring

In the heat of summer
There was a runner
Who dripped of sweat and tears
I saw his face
Such a disgrace
To run so far and get no where

Now in the fall
When the leaves turn red
I make myself get into bed
And wait for the dread
Of winter. 
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