It has been raised before
The question
Of prosaic content
And depression
The exploration
Of depth
Instead of untold heights
And the breadth
Of what is sanity
And what is madness
Inducing fear
And sadness
In those who care
But who wish to remain
In the happy talk
Which they feign
As the minstrel
On the street
Receives his daily bread
The giver relishing this feat
Yet nothing changes
The song will remain
As does the pain
Which we cannot explain
It is just a face
That adorns
Each corner
Wearing silent thorns
As we hear again
“I never knew you”
And you gasped
But it was true
And I know
This was directed to me
And not you
Because I could see
The face on the corner
Was the sanity
And my mind turning
Was the insanity
Of our condition
But you say, “No more!”
“Stop writing about it”
But what for?
So we can forget?
I cannot
Yet I too am helpless
With words that rot
On a page
That cannot be digested
Or provide nourishment
To the souls we neglected
Yes the question remains
Is it sanity?
Or is it depression?
As I insist on reality
Is happiness a choice
To be accepted or rejected?
Or is it a blessing
And unexpected?
Engaging in searing sadness
Over unending childhood memories
Which I wish to relive
Because my Father would have his faculties
I am overwhelmed
In the past
But today
A new memory will last
Because it was a happy one
And the child I rear
Will someday blink back
A tear
As she wills her mind
As I do today
To go back
Somehow, someway
To a time
Of her childhood
When we were together
Where past and present stood
Yes I want to cry
So I can remember
That what I long for
Is in my child’s December
Her new morning
Became mine of long ago
Her new day
Became what I used to know
She took me back
And I saw the boy
And his father
In her eyes of joy
And I remembered
My sanity
And my depression
Were instead a sign of a divinity
That I cannot explain
But can feel
As her love
Reminds me of what is real