Sleep Little Misery

Poem about chronic depression

Sleep little misery
Your whole life has been death
Sleep little abortion
You will never have breath.

It’s the way I have carried you
Since time began
With bruises and beatings
Confused, as a man.

An impossible beginning
In the wrong body
Without thought or feeling
A stone cold nobody.

A poem about long term, undiagnosed depression, which I think has become common in society. I thought to publish it here; maybe it has wider application than original idea.

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