Melancholy

Melancholy runs through me straight to the bone.
Sitting in my flat as always alone.
Sounds in my head take on a deathly tone.
No voice comes out, only a tortured moan.
My heart's as heavy as a solid stone.
The demons in my head are truly my own.
Wish I could say my mind has grown.
But every chance I've had I've truly blown.
Wish there was a different me, maybe a clone.
Who could repent of all the seeds I've sown.
Another shit poem I hear you all groan.
But this is the last I'll submit from my lonesome throne.