What ever it takes
The depression grips at me like a thing alive.
I do not even know why I feel so sad.
I sit, in my chair, in front of the TV.
Wasting, yet again, the weekend I had so looked forward.
Family…no, I am already too sad for that.
Drawing, painting, cartooning. Where has my humor gone.
Traffic, crowds, cars, trucks, streams of metal rushing, pushing away all the old fun.
Pen and pad. Swallow a supplement, another coffee…off switch on the TV.
Deep breath. Drawl a line cross with another. Cross lines and slash the pen across the paper, flip the book, drawl another.
Hello God, it’s me again; are you there?
I never left.
I know; I quit listening.
I am alright. Just sad.
This to shall pass.