For Me?

This is a poem I wrote when I was suffering badly from seasonal affective disorder. I don't want to harp on about mental illness, it has seemed to become a calling card of sorts, but it's good to know the provenance of certain writings.

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1. For Me?

 

For Me?

 

They’re all around me – happy thoughts.

The one I wanted was already bought,

When I saw it for the first time.

It’s getting me down,

A secret crime of imagination,

That sometimes I feel a happy thought,

And even though it’s not real or sought,

I wonder if it were, would it feel the same?

 

What if it were flawed and over analysed,

Resulting in a need to fantasise

To bring it alive in my mind again?

Not a life to live, I’m assured,

(especially with reference to what happened before).

 

It’s a drag however, alighting,

To find only writing,

As a way to exorcise my folly,

At a lost attempt at being jolly.

IT’S NOT YOUR RESPONSIBILTY 

ONLY MINE

BUT IT’S OFTEN A BORE

TO BE JUST fine.

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