I’m not a quitter, but then again
It’s hard to hope after so long a fight.
I have to think back to the age of ten
To recall when last it was I felt right.
Alone and unhappy describe my youth
Add empty and wearied to my twenties
When those years passed hopelessness became truth
Through every effort to make this ache cease.
Now looking ahead for three to four weeks
With a Stoic heart I take on the chore
To perish a pain as old as the Greeks
Through cognitive change and chemical war.
With one before bed and two when I wake
Inhibit my serotonin reuptake.
Persistent Depressive Disorder (Dysthymia)