making progress seems the hardest thing,
when every morning is so grey
and today is just the same
as every other for weeks.
these days are dark for you,
and i wish i could see through,
your defence and this fence
you've built all around.
because talking isn't working,
things stay the same.
making progress is still
the hardest thing.
youre mornings are still grey,
but clear enough to see
that nothings changed
its still the same.

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