poetry then&mental illness now
and having not commerce d in pharmaceuticals
and psychotropics never knew to close these doors....
and Pound would not to Whitt.
and Wheatley, golden young, vast her ocean.
and Lincoln's depression, changed lots, man his rivers.
and Poe's nightmares, cleansed as snow.
and Da Vinci, if he erased her smile.
and Emily found the mood, to change her verse.
and Homer, always knew to split his tales.
and God showed you hope, Beethoven his child.
and look at the world, these people made better.
and I would smile if depression was not so bad.
and no one knows my name and no one cares.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem