A Joke Poem by Anderson Greenwald

Although I live, I don’t feel alive
Although I have purpose, I lack the drive
And I feel that everything I do for myself
Just takes up time until I’m sleep deprived.
Depression, I think, is not an utter sadness
But a displeasure felt in anything that happens;
(Because it doesn’t matter if I laugh at a joke
That wasn’t funny once, but told again and again...)
I see the truth in my waking moments from sleep
Where I would love to spend my everyday:
The black abyss behind such thin eyelids
Consumed by a darkness the sun couldn’t send away.