Neon Signs of Depression

by on February 24, 2018 :: 0 comments

One fine day
I woke up,
worried,

I used to be
worried about
losing,
my parents,
my home, my
job, my money,
my self,
myself.

I used to be
worried about
finding,
a few extra years
to live, some
new friends, myself
homeless, and
occasionally, love.

And since then
not a single day
has passed
when I was not.

editors note:

When “one fine day” comes our way, won’t we be pressed to worry as well? (We welcome Rajtilak to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of his madness on his new page – check it out.) – mh clay

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