Depression

A tense present is the present test Of our cognition of current dates, events, And people of distinction. And if we fail to recognize The past tense, that dusty library of memories Comes under scrutiny. How many books remain? How many taken out and not replaced? How soon an empty room, A functionless space? How soon to face that old nightmare Sense of hollowness and ultimate depression. Where I possess only the tense future With the muffled bell ringing "Will I breathe tomorrow? " When I view the future of another I sit alone and nurture A deep sorrow as my songs fail to flower And I feel there's nothing more to say, As though dark clouds had cast the sun away.