I’m not sure why, but writing poetry always seems to make me rather melancholy. Or, at least, what I write is usually depressing to some degree.
I know when I was younger my poetry was happier. Rather, it wasn’t terribly deep. I wrote about silly things children write about such as how I wished there were more swings or slides in the local playground and what my favourite flavour of yogurt was. Cute little verses, but nothing I would show to anyone today (mostly because I scrapped every last one of them).
Even when the subject of my poetry is meant to be a happy one, some inkling of sadness always manages to slip in somehow. It’s as if my getting older has forbidden me from writing solely joyful poetry. They’ve become my own Songs of Experience, I suppose.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to form lighthearted lyrics again, but for now, the sad stuff isn’t so bad. Like Sir Elton John said, sad songs say so much.