Somethings false
somethings true
somethings are
too true

the elements looked inside my brain
said this man needs some storm rain wind
to aid and abet his pernicious melancholic

too true

worries list and complain ain't gonna do,
put when a revelation slips out
that touches the highest priority
pain points
writing poetry
can't help
even and especially if

too true

like to tell you I am happy to be alive
but that would be a lie

somewhere behind my forehead is
an amorphous ache that only goes quietude
but Cain marked never disappears.

you can't take it with you,
happiness seems to have a shelf life,
a half life, that cuts the time you get to get it
in half.

but the amorphous ache
you call depression
that I call
desperation
has no life,
it just never dies

Rain, flooding and wind advisories
come to mix and match
the desperation that is
pill-proof

they don't laugh at me,
cause they know
desperation is
too true.