The Chewing Gum Webs They Spin
A poem on the value of the clinically depressed to society
New and unfounded sadness
Piles onto the stash that I hoard.
I get that from my mum.
There’s a tree by my bedroom window
That I often catch cradling a noose on its branch
From the corner of my eyes, riveted to it, sticky gum.
I try to look away but my legs walk on
To the glass that I tap, fingers tucked under thumb
Hoping it breaks for I swear I never longed to feel numb.
Gum is just as addictive as rum
But easier to stomach.
Each and every NYE I look out for the sun
In search of something to blind me, for a reason to run
From what is called life and drug abuse- the common substitute for fun.
For some sort of excuse for holding the gun
To my head as though it’s the unanimous choice made by everyone-
By society’s version of how, in my life, XP can be won.
The government sure knows how lies can be spun
To catch my fate by the Achilles’ heel.
Hi, if you enjoyed this piece feel free to follow and subscribe to my account, s-p-sacker, to receive an email whenever I publish and check out some of my other works. Some with similar themes include:
Flat White Snow( https://medium.com/new-writers-welcome/flat-white-snow-dedd616631fe),
Steady Nerves( https://s-p-sacker.medium.com/steady-nerves-2a4eee8b4210)
Subdomain: s-p-sacker.medium.com
:)
