Depression

743-a. The Search Continues - Dee Sunshine

 

Not even in forty degrees
of blazing Asian sun
did I meet a single peasant
who, full of self doubt,
couldn’t see the point of
planting her rice.

I never heard
one murmured threat
of suicide,
not even from
the young boys
chained to the looms
where our exquisite
carpets are made.

There’s no chit-chat
about bi-polar disorders
amongst the porters
who carry more than
their body weight
sixteen hours a day.

There’s no time
to go rummaging
in the dusty back rooms
of the psyche:
no time
for anything more
than just surviving.

So count yourself lucky, my friend!
Your depression is, without doubt,
the sweetest of luxuries.

Dee Sunshine

 


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