Word Soup

Poems, doggerel and other literary abuses.

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"I blog, therefore I am". Clearly not true, or I wouldn't exist except every now and then.

Monday, October 10, 2005

And if that weren't depressing enough...

Here's one more really depressing piece of verse. I guess, as Victor Buono would have said, It Could Be Verse.

I wrote this once when I really, really, really wanted to be done with life. The primary thing holding me back was not wanting to hurt my loved ones. Anyway, it's not a line acrostic. I got a little tired of those. It is, however, extremely melodramatic. <sigh>

Stuck With Me

"Life's a bitch," is what we used to say, "and then you die."
And if that's not the simple truth, can someone tell me why
We fight and lose and hope and fail, and never seem to see
A reason to keep living it (aside from apathy) ?

If life is such a sacred thing, then tell me, if you will
Why life has got to hurt so much; why life has got to kill
The spirit in a person's heart, their dreams of happiness
Can all the pain of wretched life be cancelled with a kiss?

They say love makes it all worthwhile, and love is truly fine
But love can't stop the agony inside this soul of mine
I wish that I could find a way to bid my life adeiu
Without it causing grief and pain and suffering to you

They tell you that your life's a gift; that ending it is wrong
But where's the crime in dying when life's hurt me for so long?
It needn't be a cry for help -- it wouldn't be for me
But I don't want to hurt you, so I guess I'm stuck with me

© 2001 by Lisa Liel

Elegy For A Wasted Life

The following is a line acrostic I once wrote. Yeah, I was miserable at the time. Someone who saw it suggested that I get counseling.

They say depression is anger turned inwards. Right now, I'm so angry at the unnecessary physical pain I've been feeling for two solid months that I don't think I could be depressed if I wanted to be. Call it "depression turned outwards".

Anyway, here's that poem. I actually think it's good, despite the fact that it's like the anti-Invictus.

Elegy For A Wasted Life

When darkness claims my curséd life
When death grants me its boon
These words will fill my empty thoughts
"It didn't come too soon."

I can't complain; the fault is mine
I'll harvest what I've sown
I've caused but grief and hurt and pain
To everyone I've known

I never made a difference
I mattered not at all
I'll die the way I've lived my life
And not a tear will fall

If truth could have its way you'd find
Engraved upon my stone
"Here lies a wretch who lived and died
Friendless and alone."

When darkness claims my curséd life
I'll harvest what I've sown
I'll die the way I've lived my life
Friendless and alone.

© 2001 by Lisa Liel