He wasn’t always like this, so poor
Nor did he used to wear that frown
But one day he got the depression
From then on the way was just down.
He never saw it coming at all
One day was the same as tomorrow
But out of the blue she just left him
And that was the start of his sorrow.
It’s true to say he lived for his work
He was ruthless in doing the job right
But the price he paid was too much to bear
For not keeping his love in his sight.
Now down in the gutter just scraping to live
He has visions of those days in his past
But a pass of a bottle of cheap whisky
And that image of beauty doesn’t last.
One day he woke and forgot who he was
He raged and he screamed but for nought
Now he’s strapped to a bed in a room somewhere
He bewildered as his head just won’t hold a thought.
©Joe Wilson – Depression…2016