I have to block out thoughts of you.
Because all it brings is depression.
I walk in the damp sand.
Watching the tide come in.
My footprint is imprinted
into the damp sand.
As the waves wash over,
the footprints are gone.
Nobody will know I was there.
The memory of you washes away.
Taking a part of me with it, also with you
because all I am to you is a stranger.
All You are to me is a stranger.
You are broken.
I am broken.
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Depression is such a generalized term. What does that really mean anymore? Give me something heart-wrenching.
The ideas seemed kind of half-formed, and tehy change so often I can't really keep track of them.
Clau's right; this is a prime example of navel-gazing. While it means a lot to you, I'm sure, there's very little meaning to an objective (outside) reader. The errors in punctuation and capitalisation, as well, didn't exactly lend itself to a brilliant review.
In the words of the Great Bradshaw:
Scrap this.
this was very list like, and navel gazing. I couldn't feel anything. It's just young poetry about depression, the emotions don't even make sense once on paper.
I think I critiqued another poem of yours, but my suggestion is still that you should read more poetry. oh and this article I wrote might help you: Emotional Poetry.