Response to a Response

Prozacs in half, Zolofts in full.
Oh he who breaks is such a fool.
Pardon my french, i mean no harm
Prozac Prince calls for alarm.

I know this is lame. But don't we need a break from all the old fashioned way of dealing with the blues?
I like your line, though. "Break...The...Prozacs...In Half!"

I responded with this poem to a response to a post in poetry form in Mylot. Below is my reply to the discussion starter who seemed to reflect his depression in his poem:

Just keep on writing. It's good you are letting it all out. It does save us from falling off the edge. It keeps us sane. Darkness is not forever. After the night, morning breaks free. Joy will come prancing along. Open your eyes. Open your heart. Look at you inside. Beautiful being. Your mind is in a deadly place, but your heart is somewhere glorious. Sweet soul that you are. Pain is because you love. Death is because you fear. Embrace pain. Live.

Just Sharing

It seethes through souls, squeezes, cuts, chokes.
Teardrops become ink, into pen, then kisses paper.
Pain grips the poet, then sets free
The hand that writes with heart, oh! love-maker.

Ever appreciated pain after you have written a poem and set yourself free? Now i can exhale...

Wrote this three months ago, starting a discussion under Poetry in MyLot.com.

Sprinkling Thoughts

Spills from a spinning wheel
seemingly endless
splatters here and there
screams in my head...

Still trying to find calm amidst clutters,
clarity in confusion,
serenity within shock persisting to stay.
I search, wait, and pray.

My Fixes

Coffee and old fashion style of journal writing. The former is to energize my sick brain while the latter is a temporary replacement of a PC under repair.

March Seven Too Oh Oh Ate

My first birthday here...beginning of the end of me. I remember writing something for my Psychology 1 paper back in college about atrophy and entrophy: "We begin to die the moment we are born."