Depression is a cycle with three wheels.

It is a tough day in the neighborhood,

Even the simple language is misunderstood.

People live in disbelieve,

Their safety has been stolen by a silent thief.

They live constant turmoil and a drum beat of defeat,

That is life on the common ground and up the dirty street.

Life is looking for that ticket of gold or the golden fleece,

Their security is flimsy and they are scared of the police.

How does one get out of the hell hole of poverty and despair?

And for the few who make it, no one seems to care.

The depression of a humdrum life is common to the core,

Most of life is tedium and salted with boredom galore.

Smiles are rare and sprinkled with distain,

The boredom of watching the rain run down the window pain.

Our window is broken and there is no one to repair the glass,

Will our world survive?  How much longer will this torture last?

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