Nine months ago, my ignorance expired
Though my despair was only just conceived
A full gestation yet would be required
Before my misery would be relieved
Three-quarters of a year since last I knew
A gleam of hope, or comfort, or self-worth
I guess I’m glad I had no hint or clue
About this woefulness I had to birth
But now I feel the mists begin to clear
Depression’s fist is loosening its grip
Some notes of peace I think I now can hear
Inviting my whole point of view to flip
And what is this I sense with my new head?
The fear that chased me all my life’s now dead

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