Summer is dead, fall is here, and winter is upon us. Thanks to grey skies in NYC from October to March, I’ll be seasonally depressed, as opposed to regular depressed. How festive!
However, on a more serious note, in Nicomachean Ethics, while speaking about the utility of art, Aristotle articulated that art can bring about catharsis by unleashing the emotions held captive within us. He cited the tragedies portrayed in Greek theater, and explained that if you feel sad, you are more likely to crave sadness, and that tragic forms of art can satisfy that craving. He argues that art has a functional purpose in society, and that without it, many would be far more destructive.
So with that said, here are my sad poems. I hope you enjoy them, and if you are feeling sad, I hope they bring you a sense of catharsis. If not, and you’re still craving sadness, read the news. Enjoy!
Life’s Lie
Why do they come, into our lives,
The ones we love, for whom we’d die,
It seems by chance,
And yet I can’t,
Decide if that makes life a lie.
Despair
Ah despair, death’s wand’ring step child,
He comes, then goes, then stays awhile,
A mirror is where,
I meet his cold stare,
Which brings me tears, and the devil a smile.
Hell Awaits
So lost alone, so far from home,
What comes of me when I get old?
When I’m asleep,
Beneath your feet,
I’ll feel hell’s heat, and still be cold.
To Be
Seeking, seeking,
Always searching,
For purpose in,
My lonely life.
Demons, tempters,
Always lurking,
During times in,
Which I’m weak.
Stealing, Taking,
All my feeling,
I am numb, and
Can’t wake up.
Sleeping, fleeting,
Avoiding dealing,
With self, my world,
And where I’m from.
Beings, being,
Human beings,
Existence seems,
So strange and dumb:
Reconciling
That I am me,
And yet, at once,
I am no one.
The Void Inside
Though I’m alone,
I have one friend,
His name is Void,
He seeks my end,
And to destroy,
My love, my joy,
To ever be,
In his employ,
Void lives inside me,
And eats and eats,
My soul his lair,
And his to keep.
Always in need,
Hungry each time,
I create these dreams
In my mind,
Hopes to appease,
The beast inside,
But each time void feeds,
More of me dies.
