Seed

It's that time of year again I dread and hate,

a time where everyone is festive and happy and full of spirit,

also a time of Mass Suicide.

The only time Depression devours me like an animal whose been without food for a whole year.

I wish I could be with someone, but I hate everyone.

I hate the way I'm seeing the world in my eyes,

I feel like a Bad Seed,

whose grown into a Weed,

in a World of Flowers, I don't belong,

Intoxicating and choking everything around me.