Imagination Station

Cernuous shutters, weather beaten, peeling paint,
Marred by existence, no money for upkeep.
Walk on by . . .

Depression ensues

. . . How can this be?
So much care, everything perfectly prepared,
More waste.

Depression perverts.

Irrelevant costume, monotonous routine, trapped in the wrapping of what is,
and what is not.

Shameful game, freedom of my brain, always choosing pain, knowing it is done,
Refusing to give in . . . to let go . . .

Accepting what is has never been for me;
The possibility of what could be,
Now thatís the life for me!

Written by saraeaton
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2 reading list entries 0
comments 2 reads 112
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 10:37pm by Tallen
Today 9:42pm by Ahavati
Today 8:37pm by butters
Today 8:29pm by Josh
Today 7:59pm by Alexxis
Today 7:52pm by gardenlover