The Artist of Depression

The loneliness of no one to love. My first poem

Her mind is aloft
She lets her feelings flow through her fingers
The outside world means nothing to her
It is full of creatures just passing time
Not of stable mind
one more blow and her mind is crushed by the wind
The black flower grows in her garden
It once again stands alone
Will the day come when her garden is full of color?
Not today,
Again its not today!