Hope Depression Poems

I got no gimmick
I got no schtick 
I’m nobody’s chosen
Ain’t nobody’s pick 
I sit on the sidelines 
With my lonely social recorder 
And I keep...

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Like rain drops but not ??
06/08/2023



A collaborative poem by:

°Chelsea Marie StufLeben
& my 9 year old daughter,
• Claire Christine Maki


•A dark stormy day, 
With the city...

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barefoot and present 
old soft shoes naked 
foot wiggling toes grimacing
 I come to manipulate the ground
 that I stand dirty souls
 marching forth
 battle...

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I write in rhyme, to depict how I feel inside
feelings I'd otherwise conceal in my mind
In this race against time, we all hope that we...

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"Dead leaves lay still until the wind takes them
         here and there:  even the last flower...

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In the realm of emotions, where torment resides,
A man's head turns into a circus of sadness, it hides.
The carnival of thoughts, a chaotic parade,
Where reason...

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In the depths of solitude's unyielding grip,
An exposed nerve, raw and stripped,
The haunting echoes of trauma's refrain,
Consume the heart, drowning in pain.

Yearning for solace, yet...

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Denial of possession
Of that to which I'm drawn
My heavy heart sinks through regression
A king reduced to pawn
Sifting through them for a lesson
Splintered pieces all but...

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June 2, 2023
Miracle Man

I woke up depressed,
and morning news doesn’t help.
But faith gives me hope.
...

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Hopeful Sea

I have a friend
She seems withdrawn 
Our wistful chat before the dawn 

Reveals the truth
The news is grim
It isn't me she loves but him

The...

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In the depths of night, where shadows roam,
A tale unfolds of shattered dreams we own.
Once filled with hope, our hearts soared high,
But now they lie...

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The gloomy sky falls, wrecks my starry night,
the moon splits in shroud, dissolves in the dark.
You disappear out of my wistful sight,
on a journey of...

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melancholy bleeds tears of darkness, hues
wistful, lonely weeping silently, night
blazing with the grim, a shroud to confuse

withdrawn into the aching, grieving write
poetry and prose bleeding...

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Like art, hope is the cradle of life
with zeal, this cruel world
from frustration, our haunting zones
ours' are tormenting chapters untold
when tomorrow has nothing to offer
while...

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I cry when you're not satisfied
I tried but when I fell I hide
In truth and act I've lied
Often embedded in my stride

Condemned in my consent...

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