Gloomy Gus
H. W. Bryce
They called for sunshine for the weekend
We got the picnic packed
We got ourselves out to the park
Just when the clouds made a raid on the sun…
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…And it rained our picnic out
That was our Saturday in the park–
And they call me Gloomy Gus
They called for the sun to shine on Sunday
We took ourselves down to the beach
We got ourselves ready for to get that tan
When the wind swept our things away
And the storm moved in with a great big grin
And almost tore our wee ones away–
And they call me Gloomy Gus
Gloomy Gus, Gloomy Gus
Weather-beaten Gloomy Gus
He never wins the weather bets
He suffers whatever it is he gets
Why it’s enough to make a feller cuss–
Pity poor old Gloomy Gus
Come along Monday morn
And I gotta go to work again
Another five days down the mining vein
Another ache, another pain,
And the goddam sun comes out again
And there ain’t no weather in the mining vein–
So they call me Gloomy Gus
And every day of my miserable week
The sun shines all the day
And I’m all covered in mining soot
So the sun can’t touch my skin
Seems I just can never win
Is it any wonder they call me
Gloomy Gus? Gloomy, Gloomy, Gloomy Gus.
Gloomy Gus, Gloomy Gus
Weather-beaten Gloomy Gus
He never wins the weather bets
He suffers whatever it is he gets
Why it’s enough to make a feller cuss–
Pity poor old Gloomy, Gloomy Gus
–
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Gloomy Gus narrative
This is kind-sorta like you feel when you get The Diagnosis.
(B e it this or that.)
After the initial (lightning bolt shock) of hearing The Word.
. . .
.And I’m not trying to be facetious here.
.
.
So
You hope against hope and you pray and you grope that the The Word will be neg as opposed to the pos which would mean long, long seasons of gloom.
And every word(that says Progress is a splinter of Sunshine glinting hopefully through.
And you capture it and hold onto it; you feed it, you nourish it with Hope and with Love and Encouragement; you try so hard to keep it alive…
For your progress; or for your Loved One.
And somehow you know that you must keep your Spirit up, for your own Welfare if you are The One, or for you Loved One if he or she is The One.
And that’s the hard part.
Because on top of all of that, the effects of the meds, or the not drugs if that is the case, you come under attack by that mighty ogre, Depression.
For me, poetry was my strength and my (small ‘s’) saviour.
For you? Please find some positive action/hobby/volunteer position…whatever, to give you support and strength. Join a support group. It helps.
And in whatever
God, god, spirit or faith you believe in,
now is the time to pray……….
And, may your prayer please be answered.
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