Poetry Monday

November 21, 2016

Now I want to leave you all a note before you read this. At first glance it might seem incredibly offensive, and while it’s not meant to be, you could still struggle with what I’m getting at. I would suggest you pay attention to the meanings of the vocabulary I make use of, and I hope that you can appreciate a different perspective on this very serious and very sensitive subject.

Depression

A languish luxury
of the First World kind.
Afforded to those
that have the time,

to sit and think
to laugh and rhyme,
with every convenience
that makes life sublime.

They reside in the west,
men and women, depressed.
Leaving their coddled shell
feels like a difficult climb

even when there are stairs
conveniently cut,
but they would complain,
“They are covered in slime!”

It’s depression
and it feels like grime.

It’s depression
a languish luxury
of the First World kind.

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