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.