How Can They Be So Depressed?

How can there be any depression is this godforsaken world when the depressed themselves are so lovely? Were they not there when they were born? I have known all of them since then, I know their secrets. I feel their pains and I carve their smiles. The importance of their studies declines with every masterpiece they spit out of their minds, and their currencies turn to dust with every baby they bear. Time and time again, those sweet inhabitants proclaim one another, tying strings where knots are not allowed, weaving tapestries of objective love and acceptance. The bad apples fall far from the tree, and usually, someone will pick them up and make them into a sour apple pie. The birds nibble at the crust, and eventually, so do they, but they never kill another soul. I see it all. I see the needs, the wants, and I hear the torture of caring. How can they be so sad when they immerse themselves in their own emotional beauty every single day?

Reviews

[CHRIS ANDES]

...deep and longing from far away
=]..

[Emrick]

(Currencies turn to dust).this is nice.

Your metaphors are BEAUTIFUL! I love how you tell a story so gracefully, and how this poem flows nice and steadily. Good job!

[Coyote Poetry]

Depression can blind you. Leave the beautiful and good things unseen. I saw two brother kill themselves because they were afraid to face the new day. I believe better to be pissed off and toss the bad thing away. Move on to something better. A lot of question open up in this story. You could expand and make stronger points and effects. A interesting story.
Coyote