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Strange isn't it; when one is depressed, one feels the urge to write poetry. I wrote this a while ago, and it's weird reading it. Like someone else wrote it...
Once more into the abyss dear friend
Once more venture forth into that black cloud
To face your demons that conquer all
To nobly go and to bravely fall
Living up to standards that you can never meet
Doing battle with yourself and tasting defeat
You’ll never know peace, you’ll never rest
As you constantly strive to be the best
Such a fine failure you kid yourself to be
You’ll be everything though I’ll never be me
Just keep telling yourself as you struggle through the day
How much you’d miss the morning sunshine, how you’d miss the fun of play
And try to forget
You never liked that anyway
Keep waiting and hoping for that elusive break
That “something round the corner”, that chance you’ll never make
For that’s what keeps you going
Keep going for pity’s sake.
Once more into the abyss dear friend
Once more venture forth into that black cloud
To face your demons that conquer all
To nobly go and to bravely fall
Living up to standards that you can never meet
Doing battle with yourself and tasting defeat
You’ll never know peace, you’ll never rest
As you constantly strive to be the best
Such a fine failure you kid yourself to be
You’ll be everything though I’ll never be me
Just keep telling yourself as you struggle through the day
How much you’d miss the morning sunshine, how you’d miss the fun of play
And try to forget
You never liked that anyway
Keep waiting and hoping for that elusive break
That “something round the corner”, that chance you’ll never make
For that’s what keeps you going
Keep going for pity’s sake.
Strange isn't it; when one is depressed, one feels the urge to write poetry. I wrote this a while ago, and it's weird reading it. Like someone else wrote it...
Once more into the abyss dear friend
Once more venture forth into that black cloud
To face your demons that conquer all
To nobly go and to bravely fall
Living up to standards that you can never meet
Doing battle with yourself and tasting defeat
You’ll never know peace, you’ll never rest
As you constantly strive to be the best
Such a fine failure you kid yourself to be
You’ll be everything though I’ll never be me
Just keep telling yourself as you struggle through the day
How much you’d miss the morning sunshine, how you’d miss the fun of play
And try to forget
You never liked that anyway
Keep waiting and hoping for that elusive break
That “something round the corner”, that chance you’ll never make
For that’s what keeps you going
Keep going for pity’s sake.
Once more into the abyss dear friend
Once more venture forth into that black cloud
To face your demons that conquer all
To nobly go and to bravely fall
Living up to standards that you can never meet
Doing battle with yourself and tasting defeat
You’ll never know peace, you’ll never rest
As you constantly strive to be the best
Such a fine failure you kid yourself to be
You’ll be everything though I’ll never be me
Just keep telling yourself as you struggle through the day
How much you’d miss the morning sunshine, how you’d miss the fun of play
And try to forget
You never liked that anyway
Keep waiting and hoping for that elusive break
That “something round the corner”, that chance you’ll never make
For that’s what keeps you going
Keep going for pity’s sake.
what's a pome?
A badly spelt poem.
I've got pages of this sort of thing, and yeah it's odd going back when things are ok and seeing the state of mind you get yourself into.
Reminds me, when I do start to get miserable, that I've looked back and laughed before.
Reminds me, when I do start to get miserable, that I've looked back and laughed before.
Goatboy wrote:
>
> Reminds me, when I do start to get miserable, that I've looked back
> and laughed before.
Yup; I can't think of a single thing in my past that I can't make some sort of joke about, although some were awful at the time. Time heals all wounds, etc.
>
> Reminds me, when I do start to get miserable, that I've looked back
> and laughed before.
Yup; I can't think of a single thing in my past that I can't make some sort of joke about, although some were awful at the time. Time heals all wounds, etc.
Absolutely, it's just hard to keep that in mind when the clouds are gathering.
Light wrote:
> A badly spelt poem.
Kerouac called 'em pomes too
> A badly spelt poem.
Kerouac called 'em pomes too