Depression/Deprivation

Depression walked right up the sidewalk
As you sat on the front steps of your mother’s house
Wishing that being a kid
Would have been more fun.

You drop your jax on the door steps
An “old school” game
Later, a cigarette
Then burning ashes replace it

There doesn’t seem to be a fix
For a pessimistic view
The sprinkles of hope
Quickly turn to broken glass chips
Wedged between the toes

You come upon a shiny object
Once again you take the bate
Took your breath away
But soon you are simply deflated

There doesn’t seem to be any touch
Or tender moments
That can rid you of the tears
Personal failure you can count on
Once again

You toy with rushing to old age
Graying the youthful temptations
Reaching for the grave with one hand
While looking around for a helping hand
In this cactus desert

You have known love
But it has slipped away
Down the drain of regretful waste
To a far off place