Like fog settling in for the morning
or a giant blanket covering a room,
sadness smothers and consumes you,
with grayish shades of doom and gloom.
Its cause and thickness always changing,
its murky pall can spread like fire,
every movement a tiring effort,
meandering like smoke at a funeral pyre.
It’s a cancer that’s metastasized
with tumors spreading everywhere,
but you’re the patient and the surgeon,
who can but catatonically sit and stare.
Even as I write this sonnet
my sadness begins to intercede,
is it exposure by discomposure
or a self-fulfilling prophecy?
The cause, intensity hard to measure,
one day terminal, the next in check.
It’s a universal problem,
affluence can’t control the wretch.
It’s contagious like a plague
but often self-induced;
the only antibiotic,
our self-absorption be reduced.
If your life’s goal is being happy
you can count on being sad,
like really living requires first dying
and the first will be the last.
The key to ending sadness,
is getting our attitudes in line;
sadness sees the jar half empty,
gladness sees it divinely aligned.
We’re usually sad because we choose it,
attitudes are the one thing we control,
We can choose to be sad or happy,
let’s make good attitudes our daily goal.
When our attitude’s in order,
knowing God is sovereign, in control,
sadness won’t have a point of entry
cause God Himself will guard our souls.