Walk to the green

Life’s shit, if you let it.
Where’s the spring-life I used to have?
Where’s the beauty, the virgins, the Sun and happiness?
Now I live in a romantic climate.
I’m sorrounded by deep, dark and serious thoughts
That fill me and encarcerate me in a prison
Of hate, dispair and tragedy.
I hate depression and I’ve got it.
I want to scream, explode, get free, and...
I can’t,... I just can’t.
I’m so filled I want to open
And let it all out
But I won’t be able to until
At least,
At last,
I find what I really want
Then, having an end to go forward to
To look up to,
Then maybe I’ll open my tomb
And walk to the green.