Depression is an endless cloudy day
That holds a universe within its pale,
A dull and misty cloak of seamless gray
That hides your life beneath its leaden veil.
Clouds to hide the things you used to love.
Clouds to gray a heart too tired to care,
Obscuring the vivacious girl I love.
Clouds that sometimes hide the love we share.
Impalpable and adamant in its power,
And so I fight with you since it won't fight.
I can't let you hour by fifty-minute hour
Go gentle into that cloudy night.
For when I see the clouds close over you
And lose you in their shroud, I lose me, too.
April 22, 1992