Friday, February 4, 2011

A simple Question

A Single Question

Walking down a shallow street,
At the stroke of midnight.
Thinking heavy thoughts,
which is unhealthy in this case.

My vision obscure
By the blinding streetlights,
The same words
Recorded in my brain.

“You’ve changed.”
“You’ve changed.”
Said over
And over again.
“You’ve changed.”
“You’ve changed.”
Whatever could it mean?

I’m needy now.
According to her words.
Yet no examples,
Are ever laid out.

You’re sadder now,
She changed her words.
Despite laughing and smiles
I hand out everyday.

You don’t act like you,
Is the final thing she says.
I rather not though.
Because depression’s a drag.

It’s futile for me,
To stay the same.
But every change I make
Is considered a bad thing.

It’s futile to do anything
For my depressing soul.
So my question to you,
Is what do you want me to do?


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