Depression
Some people are needy, some are not.
It's not easy to be tough.
Granite forms over the heart ignored,
And that's why rocks are so rough.
Thieves go thieving alone in the night
And steal the soft lover's soul
Leaving behind a new sharpened knife
Which has left a gaping hole
In the heart of one, so needy, true.
Yet strong enough to still live.
Black eyes revealing the missing soul
That has nothing left to give.
There's nothing to do but take that knife
And plunge it into the heart
And watch the destruction and demise
As the world falls all apart.
� Kathee Tschudy, February 17, 2000
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