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Scattered Dreams
A brittle shiver running down my spine
arches my back and causes a whine.
Where was the warmth that I had sought?
Where was the love for which I had fought?
The summer no longer holds any warmth
and my body can no longer set any forth.
Autumn usually sets my mind at rest,
but this Fall is heartless at best.
Where are those friends who would make me laugh?
It seems like they all have come and past.
Where is the hope that I had found the one?
Now I'm only grateful it is finally done.
This shiver has spread now, into my eyes;
shifting my sight to alleviate those lies
imagined by myself in a fit of denial.
No longer does anything seem worth while.
I have thought long and decided of late
that there is no point in deciding my fate.
What if this course is not the right path?
Why then should I struggle to make it last?
Change is a concept I fear more than death,
how could I know what is possibly best?
Yet my life is changing, and not by my will,
because others, also, have their own holes to fill.
So I'll draw out a blanket, try to last through the cold,
because this "depression" is getting real old.
I'm not going to die, or I would have before.
It's just that this life is really a chore.
