Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 25,634 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

Seasonal Affective Disorder - Poem by Mark Heathcote

Sad, sad time of year
Do you cry clinging to all of your fears?
Do you disappear like an insect?
Through a little dark keyhole locked in.
Only to close the book on, all you could have been.

Sad, sad time of year
Leafing through old abandoned thoughts
Meaningless pain in cinematic color
Can you remind me what reason?
There is to get up again and bounce back.

Sad, sad time of year
This time it really does feel like I’ve lost control
Listening to too much John Coltrane
I’d better hibernate I’m much, much too anxious
Much too outspoken far too lost for a search party.

Sad, sad time of year
Isn’t it a sad time of year…
Darling where has gone all the precious sunlight
Can’t we dynamite the night, dear? It happens, happens
Every year love and, I feel like I’m running out of luck
Not just mental control to regulate my life my soul
Life it’s a switchblade knife as God is my witness…

Topic(s) of this poem: song


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Poem Submitted: Monday, August 10, 2015



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