Uncut wings

Back in the days, wonder, yore Life was still dark and sore Broad roads were dark alleyways Happiness? Noways! Find a place to rest in peace, Go take your chance, no, do as you please! You are alone, you are aloof Like a lone ranger on the sands of times The wind chimes, while the poem no longer rhymes You wonder since when has tragedy been your style Weren't you gay, weren't you happy all the while Since there is no time to contemplate Or, an eternity that you could waste But wait! Is that a ray of hope you see? That difference! Oh, his eyes are dead like the black sea He opens his mouth, his tongue divided Like that fork Poseidon was provided Yes he is irritating, beyond belief But a mentor, your solace in solitude You hate his guts, you hate that attitude But since when has friendship been of a lesser magnitude? Original Poem

She wonders what people under depression go through. Kidding. She exactly knows what people under depression go through. Experienced that she is, she is not sure if ever she would come out of or if she is already out of it. There is a gnawing presence around her that at her best times is conspicuous due to its absence and at her worst is the complete personality, a mirror of her being. At times she is more aware of her person than she would like to be, more reckless and, hence, more upset by the slightest ignominy, weakest provocation. And yet, at times she is this girl who has the world under her feet not once but twice over, as proud as the noblest knight and as carefree as Wordsworth's lass. These extremities of behavior was and innate part of her existence which has come out at the correct time for now she can face a clear mirror and not fall into pieces. She looks exactly the same as she did earlier only now that she glows. Glow not like the illuminating light-bug or the moon...