Come and Go

My Depression Moods

Are things that come and go

like laughing.

Laugh more

Cry less.

When you cry

Make it your best

When you're through

Consider this

These things I know

Come and go

like laughter.

Magic and Misery

live forever.

THE KEY TO THE DOOR

After the shadows, before the rain, between the heartbeats and thoughts of pain is a stillness known to none but a few who are blessed with the ability to feel the kiss of the old and new on their cheeks.

Music is the key to this forgotten place. Not just any music, soul searching, mind boggling, spine tingling rhythms won’t do. It must be a simple tune both pure and sweet. Bright and pretty dark or deep, whichever melody it plays, it’s the simplicity, which it conveys that keeps the key to the door in the mind of the one lost to us for a time.

When the music plays, a room unlocks and pours the deepest feelings in ones heart out with the hopes, dreams and fears of love and laughter life and tears. Once accomplishing this, the door will close, the shadows retreat and the rain starts to flow. It washes away all traces of woe and heart beats grow stronger as time starts to go.

The stillness now broken lets the world reappear. The mind has been opened gone are heartaches and fear. The cycle continues again and again until finally the music proceeds to win.

THERE IS NO ESCAPE FROM THE STORM

It’s wet and cold, it’s dreary and dark.

The lightening flashes an evil spark.

The thunder roars with a lion’s temper.

The raindrops fall in tempo.

The storm is approaching little by little

It takes it’s own sweet time.

The storm is coming it’s gradually coming

To keep the world in darkness.

It’s wet and cold dark and dreary;

It’s coming to blot out the sun.

There’s no way to stop it,

There’s no place to run

The storm will Always find you.

It has no shape.

It has no form.

It’ll come at anytime.

The storm is approaching the young and the old

It doesn’t matter who you are.

It’s coming to find you. It always will.

It’s coming to take you. It always does.

Its fury will find you and take you away;

There is no resistance that you can use

It takes you and then-

RINGING AND KNOCKING

I

Silent Rings

And Rusty boxes

Time ticks by

No knocks I hear.

Outside my window

Continued noises

Laughter, Lights

That’s all I hear.

II

Silent Rings

And rusty boxes

Bells not heard

And notes not writ

Time ticks on and on and on

Traffic hums

And pulses run

That’s all I know.

III

Where to go and what to do

When will I find someone who,

Will fill my ears with ringing and knocking

Stop the sound of the tick, tick, tocking.

Take me where the laughter is

Traffic STOP, when I am his.

SEEMINGLY ALONE

I seem to have every freedom

But where have I to go?

Alone in this large city

Who do I really know?

I can go most anywhere

But why go there alone?

Nothing’s all it seems you see

Not even when you’re grown.

Brushing the Brim

It's a good thing I am not an alcoholic.

I fear it would be too easy.

You hold onto the glass for comfort,

the small tangible feel of a delicate object

your only friend.

Lucky for me it's only filled

with orange juice or an occasional milkshake.

It's so easy to carry around this friend;

the only tangible thing.

Spilling the contents inside to 

fill up your empty space.

Over and over again

your lips brush the brim.

The liquid spills inside and then

you're full but not content.

For in the end 

the glass is empty once again

And you see the bottom

And fear the end.