UP AND DOWN, UP AND DOWN
Life, on balance, is hunky-dory.
Would it were an unmedicated story.
Longing simpler, more carefree days
when a favorite song could cure malaise.
Good friends, a guitar, a raucous jam session
was the self-prescribed drug to manage depression.
Existence now stressful, exhausting, complex
lacking in hugs, long kisses, and sex.
Loneliness rampant, solace found in self-pleasure
relationships lost that once were a treasure
Damn it this poem is something most dour
One might think the poet had lost reasonís power
Discard this brush wet with colors too bleak
It is I who impedes the joy that I seek
The heart still pumps, musicís not dead.
Live by the heart get out of the head.