Facing a loved one’s battles with depression.
In Sickness and in Health
By David Crerand
Reaching out for that last bit of the lover I remember,
Searching vacant eyes for the mother of my kids,
Trying to rekindle the future’s dreams so tarnished
A sense of being punished; though you don’t know what you did.
Laughter used to be the standard soundtrack,
Daytrips, picnics, dancing through the night,
Now its pills, paranoia and bad television
That staves off her unending paralyzing fright.
I pray these days for tiny little glimpses,
Of the bawdy girl whose antics filled my life
I hope that beyond this bleak horizon
Lies the treasure chest of joy that was my wife.
Another night of her retiring early,
While I search the night sky for meteors and stars,
I won’t abandon all that we have hoped for,
I’ll just keep my hopes and wishes in much smaller jars.
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