[Matt Q]

Mark, I reckon "the chances are" is too optimistic. Don't give us any hope!

[Nigel Mace]

It's just not what poetry is for! - give or take the odd Russian depressive. Re. the previous warnings of impending doom, nothing beats Spike Milligan's proposed epitaph.
(Was it ever executed?)

"I told you I was poorly."

[Mark McDonnell]

Matt,

A thought at breakfast, still and sad,
makes you pause the butter knife:
you know that you've already had
the happiest moment of your life.

Happy now?

(though I prefer my original: less hyperbole, more resigned realism = more genuinely depressing)

Edit: Aaron. That made me laugh..

[Roger Slater]

HALLMARK

A baby's born. From his first breath
he merely is postponing death
so that he might, before the end,
discover he can't comprehend
the world he's born to, or the pain
of being trapped inside his brain
alongside other people who,
like him, don't seem to have a clue,
and even when the boy grows old,
and after, when his corpse is cold,
he'll never know his life was just
a trick performed by wind and dust.

[Roger Slater]

LIFE

We're born.
We die.
Between,
we cry.

We starve.
We thirst.
We pray.
We're cursed.

We think.
We feel.
We are
not real.

We shout.
We rail.
We strive.
We fail.

[RCL]

Gotta hand it to Roger-Bob
I'm so depressed I have to Sobbbb

Born crying
Live sighing
Welcome dying

[Jim Moonan]

The Sea

I went down to the tumultuous sea
To watch it dance in liquid fury
And found it locked in monotony
And felt it retch in agony
And saw it heave in captivity.

The sea, the sea
and you and me.

[Max Goodman]

It's hard to imagine any poem more depressing--or, by looking so squarely at death and making art of it, more uplifiting--than Larkin's "Aubade."

But since the thread asks us to write our own:

The winter of our discontent
It's far too late to circumvent
For we have managed to cement
A reputation we'll repent.
Donald Trump is President.

[Douglas G. Brown]

After age 60, what is the use
Of trying to quit the drugs of abuse?

Booze is a lifelong need, I fancy;
And swearing off weed is even more chancy.

And as for tobacco, and here I'm not joking;
Science has proven that cancer cures smoking.

I wrote this for my brother in law 7 years ago. Ironically, he lives on.

E. A. Robinson spent a lifetime writing depressing poetry; Richard Corey is probably his best known effort