by Darlene Zagata
I hear the depression in your voice.
We try to cheer each other up.
It doesn't work; it never does.
The rain is pouring down outside.
I like the smoothness of its sound.
My days of late have been cloud filled.
Depression's flock flies overhead.
I've been on this train once before
only the conductor is different now.
I'll fill the table full for you.
Feast upon the sweat and flesh.
Inside I cry this river of blood
tired of being the burden's beast,
contemplate this train's long journey
wonder just how far I can go.