The table stands tall
Despite the weight
Of the books I will not read
And the food
That will not reach my mouth
Ageing and lying stale
Tea growing cold
As I sit across it
On a stiff chair
Steam no longer rising
From the mug
Sweet scent no longer
Coming from the full plate
And books still lying closed
As I sit staring at the moment
Being ruined by time
YOU ARE READING
The Big Depressi
PoetryThese are some sad poems and some random imagery ones (light mention of suicide)
