(FOR THE SERIOUSLY DEPRESSED FOLKS)
I can’t feel happy,
Just feel bad;
It seems spying others
Loving lives I couldn’t have
Only serves to make me sad.
I guess I can’t bear
Their “too much glad,”
Since seasonal “Holiday Cheer”
Only assures a downpour of tears.
So at this time of year,
I often find my only wish
Is to take my life’s remainder
And dump it in a trash container.
Why? Loving care is too rare
For unspared, unpaired ME to bag,
So my life’s an existential drag.
Damn! Why can’t I find a man
Who loves me as I am,
So I could feel some joy again?
Taking myself out of the trash
Requires some serious cash,
So it feels like the remains of my brain
Will feel pain for the remains of my days!
I’m in the hospital with no friends,
And the TV’s glow only shows
Happily coupled women and men.
So, please answer this query,
Fellow YouTube Fairies,
Since you’re all much smarter than me
(Even with my Ivy League masters degree):
“Why can’t Only Lonely Me
Fake or pretend
My shattered heart
Will ever mend?”
It’s a question I can’t defend.
My suffering is no joke or hoax,
So I guess my happy endings
Are at an end.
So, as the old cartoons used to say
“Tha… tha.. that’s all, folks.”
Leave a Reply