Holes

Happiness is fleeting, abruptly usurped.

It is meant for some, for others it is earned.

Bottomless potholes of depression abound

It seems to me that happiness can’t be found.

I succumb to a pothole reeling me in

All happiness is earned, all life has an end.

Ephemeral happiness flocks around here

But reality cuts through it, clean and clear.

I must keep climbing despite all of my fears.

How could I know if the end is almost here?

Death has a permanence, it’s ripping the whole.

It’s dispassionate; unforgiving of holes.

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This feels like a collection of interesting & thought-provoking ideas, but I'm not sure it feels like a cohesive idea, all these scattered observations. The best line: "Bottomless potholes of depression . . . " & I think this could be expanded more so "potholes" is the overall connecting idea, maybe even the title?!?! I also like the juxtaposition of these homonyms: "whole" & "holes" in the last 2 lines.