I Can't Write Happy


Dark and depressing,

that's all I write.

It could be about death

or about a fight.


Suicide, murder,

it's all the same.

And because of this fact,

I'm kind of in shame.


For that's all I write about

don't you see?

I can't write "happy"

it just can't be.


I tried to write "happy",

never came out good.

It came out dark and depressing,

like I knew it would.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hello everyone, sorry I missed yesterday's upload. Remember how I said something about how sickness can't keep me from posting? Well, it did. But to make up for it, I'm posting 2 today, this one being the first. Criticism is welcome and appreciated.

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allets's picture

Irony Is Defined As

This poem made me feel happy - down and dark loves company so I smile and chuckle. After depression, the sun rises and wicked little moldy flowers blossom whether wanted on undesireable. Read a book of jokes. Watch a comedy (like Clue) and the day is still cloudy but the lining is straining for silverdom - I enjoyed this - I live there sometimes - encore ~Lady A~