Depression
Is that ok to live with all the same conclusions
Or is it like worn clothes when you do not
Care what to wear in your goddamn seclusion
And like the old familiar recipies you’ve got
You see no change, its all the same old stories
Most likely, you can’t notice any changes
For otherwise it goes to different category
You leave no chance for any sudden rearrangements
But there's a vague unease brewing inside
You’re getting out of use, like old device
This might be called depression in most trite
Of understandings, but you never think it twice.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
