A little ditty

I sing a song of depression:
it sings only of regression
and never moving ahead.

In my mind is darkness:
my force of will is sparkless
infused instead with dread.

I can't remember happier days:
there are no brighter ways
to banish darkness from my head.


Pax,
N.

I remember the old days when the family of generations would gather in the parlor and we would all stand round the piano while my mother played Silent Night and we would all sing together, the young and the old, and no one was ever off key or if they were no one noticed because of the love and the deep sense of tradition that made us all one in that one warm bubble of a moment. It's not like that anymore and is unlikely to be again. I'd give almost anything for one more moment like that.

Pax,

N.