Don't Forget

Don't Forget

-a poem about depression-

written on 29th December 2015

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The Wicked Maker

[Writing Prompts December Goal]

Call me, maybe

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Title

The Wicked Maker

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The black screen shines its light, inciting irritation from me. 

          I used to like dark colours, that is, after the colour green. After reading The Secret Garden however, I was intrigued by black. In a way, watching the spy cartoon - Kim Possible, made my interest in the colour black grew back then. I liked Mary’s changes, and Dickon’s brightness. Nevertheless, when they were bright, they lost their mysteries. That was all I cared about in the past; mysteries. I was sure that I outgrew them. I was. But I hate that vibrate accompanied shine from the usual black screen that rests on the accent table.

Sonnet II, from "To W.P."

Sonnet II, from "To W.P."

With you a part of me hath passed away;
For in the peopled forest of my mind
A tree made leafless by this wintry wind
Shall never don again its green array.
Chapel and fireside, country road and bay,
Have something of their friendliness resigned;
Another, if I would, I could not find,
And I am grown much older in a day.

But yet I treasure in my memory
Your gift of charity, and young hearts ease,
And the dear honour of your amity;
For these once mine, my life is rich with these.
And I scarce know which part may greater be,--
What I keep of you, or you rob from me.

-- George Santayana

Found this from The Wondering Ministrel.

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What I un-Wished

A poem about a different outcome of waiting.

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I remember it like it was yesterday

Your distance silhouette once again leaving

You said your goodbye with a deceived smile

Father promising many calls

Sisters hugging convinced that they will endure

Brother fighting his tears from the future longing

Yet you stood there and waved anyways

A brave smile you masked on

Not believing that all will be alright.