Ode to the Depressed

Starved and sleep deprived

Sick of all the world’s strife

Oh! woeful sight

come, sit by my side.

With the head in hand

Fallen shoulders,

 As if supporting boulders,

Sick of all the worlds plight.

With a frown that deserves an Oscar

As if next of kin

To all of history’s martyrs

Oh! woeful sight

Come, sit by my side.

The face, a place

Where even google

Couldn’t find a smile

And even dreams

couldn’t conjure one

Oh woeful sight

Come sit by my side.

Stop hiding in the bunkers of sorrow,

Pick up the gun of courage,

Climb out of the depths of despair,

Shed the armour of excuses,

With the bomb of a smile,

And the trigger of hope,

Exterminate gloom.

I assure you it's darkest before dawn

And one’s sleepier before a yawn.

So end the curfew of fun

And enjoy the morrows sun.

And with all that done,

Don’t begin with line one