The Masked Depression Blues

What else is there to do? 

They say that a man isn’t supposed to cry…

I tell myself that as these tears stream down my cheeks and splash lonely puddles on this bar’s cold unclean sticky floor.

This lonely man is shaking hands with the inner child’s blue devil.

I guess that I will dry my swollen eyes, pour another shot, put my comforting mask back on and create a new persona…a much happier and stable character.

 

At least until my phone rings once again.

 

©Timothy Grassan

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