Sweeping
Sweeping sad stories
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juliangosling
juliangoslingCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  7 months ago
A short poem about depression

Sweeping

You’ve probably heard life is precious

I was always told ‘I’m hard of hearing’

Thick skulled and hard-headed

Someone destined to learn the hard way

So when my head hit the hard uncompromising ground -

Why did it break?

You’ll bounce back they say

Do people always find such comfort in beliefs and old sayings?

Does anyone have a dustpan and brush?

I’ve made a mess in my mother’s house

Millions of sharp and jagged pieces scattered

I should sweep up - I wouldn’t want anyone to stand on them

Have you ever had piece of glass in your foot?

A small niggling pain - but enough for you to notice

It could get infected if you leave it

Could I be so stupid to have dropped something so precious?

Why did they tell me I was hard headed?

What will I say happened?

My mother is going to kill me

Maybe I should kill myself?

She won’t notice if I glue it back together

Will she?

Have you ever tried to glue something back together?

You can sweep up all the little bits

But I guess you’ll always be missing a few

Are they lost?

Or did I just give up looking?

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