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Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Depression

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Let it go, Let it flow, Let the good times roll. But do they ever come no. Instead my sabotaged life all crumpled and torn, like a life that passed a murder charge that wont last. Days are like candles slowly burning away, drifting into one day then the next.sitting stationary for what seems like years with life in one hand and death in the other, like a pillow over your face and your being smothered.you hover over what is your life and watch it from afar never joining in. Always wishing and hoping you can let it go and let it flow and when oh when will the good times roll.

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