The sadness that, this afternoon,
pours over me, settles
like a dark cloud, watched
as it descends, inexorably,
...
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Sadness and depression really do seem like a poet's best friends, friends we do try to leave alone when we can.
Sundays at 2 am used to be difficult for me; it was the hour my father died...and I used to wake up every Sunday at that time for almost two years...with such incredible sadness...wow!
Good poem, Michael. Liked the first and fifth stanza in particular. Sometimes Sadness does bring Happiness. Thank you.