Depression Poem by Robert c. Davis

Depression, a crow amongst the dead branches of an apple tree
Amidst a medow teeming with life.
A young rose plant never having the chance to grow
For born in the cold of winter, far below the trees, no sun.
Two fawns, left orphan to the oncoming headlights
Mother stood not a chance now nor do children.

A young boy, cancer bound, no smoke can his immune withstand
For his fathers addiction he'll pay.
Sons, daughters, without a chance to live with a father
For war has brought him down.
Greed beyond belief, no care for others lives,
power, land, power, land thats all the greedy see.

The fact that, you, I, we, all people could help
but choose to not help, were saving for that new toy, why donate?
The fact we let young children starve, leave them, forget them
they're from third world countries, not our fault, right?

So what has this world come to, what have we done
I'll tell you.
We've wasted our time, our effort, our breath
on materialized things forgetting what matters.
Life matters, people matter.
True depression.