In days of depression, I tend to look back to the past, when my days were crazy, and my sleep was a nod
I remember the faces, I remember the names
There were times when the darkness wasn't overbearing
The suicidal comfort of knowing what I was doing the next day. Relying on survival instincts to just get by
Charges are filed, children are taken, bids are given. The will to forget overpowering my morals as a mother
I see nnow, where we all are. I can see the hope between our ragtag pack of corrupted.
No longer are we robbing, stealing, selling to start our days
Being reunited with families, children and society as a whole
The will to forget diminishing into the will of life
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