Frost
“Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.”
Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
Depression tastes of anesthesia
And copper pennies.
Suicide is a shout into the void,
A ‘give me liberty or give me death-’
Pass on the liberty.
I have no patience for reformation.
Frost,
No pun intended,
Never felt the icy breath
Of six plus years in a frozen fortress
His ill-patched mind made up.
He lived in lust,
Apparently,
Not mental agony.
Apathy.
Desire is an easy emotion-
Both to create
And to fake.
Depression isn’t an emotion.
It’s an emptiness,
A lack of.
Robert had a lot going for him,
But clearly lacked a modern poet’s muse:
A crippling mental disorder
And self-loathing.
Cheers.
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