Depression over the bay of Bengal

Can you hear the sounds of silence,
When you are by yourself?
Can you hear a clock ticking,
And the beat of your heart?

Isn't it funny these times
When you wouldn't reach for a pen
To write
When you wouldn't switch on the TV
To watch
When you wouldn't see humor
In a joke
When you so fucking want to use the F word
And so fucking frequently?

What is this state of being?
What do you have to say about it?
It was you who made us
Hasn't it happened to thee?

'O!petulant mortal!',came a voice from above
'You haven't seen much
Of what I have seen.
It pays to be patient
That is what I have been.'

'It was one day when
I wouldn't reach for a pen to write,
I wouldn't switch on the TV to watch,
I wouldn't see humor in a joke,
I so fucking felt like the F word myself,
And so fucking frequently,
That I made thee!'

Note to the reader:The writer of this piece says, "Better luck with the coin toss!"