Is it time, my friends, to have you vote for the most depressing poem on this thread? Should I let the thread collect more depressing poems for a few days? Do you really want a competition and someone to shuffle off victorious in a laurel crown of yew berries, the despot of depression?

This is how I'm thinking the voting will go: rank your top three choices in order (just list the post # on this thread for the poem)--I will give 3 points for a number one ranking, 2 points for a number two ranking and 1 point for a number three ranking. Poets are encouraged to vote for their own work.

This could be a real competition if you want. I don't know--it's all just so depressing.

Our first breath
Leads to death.

New poems only, or are previously written but nonetheless depressing poems allowed?

He’s Falling Apart at the Seams it Seems

Feet are swollen, ankles strained
knees are locked and steps restrained.
Hips are stiff and gut so bloated
once-deep inny’s fully outted!

Prostate’s absent, pizzle’s napping
breasts are bulging, dewlaps flapping.
Nose’s knobbed and ears now bristle,
flabby lips no longer whistle.

Brains, those left, used to be deft,
but losing heft are thought-bereft.
Will this fleshy suit he owns
unravel seams till he’s just bones?

We're born to bad,
then grow to worse,
then coffin-clad
we ride a hearse.

The mill churns on.
Our lives are grist.
And then we're gone.
We are not missed.
.
.
.

Mr. Smith, bring on the previously written depressing poems. They only need to be original (that is, yours).

Best,

Aaron

Things will worsen bye and bye;
There is no pie up in the sky.
You needn't pray and bow your head;
Worms await you when your're dead.

Clothes to Die For!

Croak cloaks
Cremation clothes
Dead threads
Dead dresses
Dead duds
Dead dude’s duds
Dead diva’s duds
Corpse clothes
Body rags
Sad rags
Final fashions
Ghost garbs
Death dons
Demise dons
Cadaver covers
Pall shawls
Grave garb
Winding sheets
Underworld underwear
Burial boots
Kick-the-bucket kicks
Cerement suits
ουσ. Σάβανο

I wonder...
xxxxxxxxxxx"Can there ever be
a life, quite pointless?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx...then that's me.

Another very depressing poem, not a funny one, is called Lo Fatal, and was written by Rubén Darío. My translation is here (scroll down to "Fated").