When I’m depressed and feeling crappy
And I’ve been unfriended by those who know me
If there was a god I’d pray to him or her
But since there isn’t I wallow in my despair
I dream of winning the lottery
Becoming a one percenter chased by paparazzi
A superstar walking life’s red carpet
Receiving a Nobel Prize for brilliance
But of course I’m not, I’m nowhere near
My self-loathing sets me spinning into misery
When by lucky chance I think of you
And like a tweet gone viral in a flash
I shake away the blues to sing your tune
Since your sweet love is all I need instead of worthless money
David Trudel © 2012
My poem was inspired, in part, by this masterful reinterpretation of Shakepeare’s 29th sonnet:
When times are hard and old friends fall away
And all alone I lose my hope and pluck,
Doubting if God can hear me when I pray,
And brood upon myself and curse my luck,
Envying some stranger for their handsome face,
Their wit, their wealth, their chances or their friends,
Desiring this one’s brains and that one’s place,
And vexed with all I have that makes amends,
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, –
By chance I think of you; and then my mind,
Like music from deep sullen murmurs rising
To peals and raptures, leaves the earth behind:
For if you care for me, what need I care
To own the world or be a millionaire?
George Santayana
The New Republic, 1915
The original, and still champion, version goes like this:
Sonnet XXIX: When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
I knew Shakespeare wasn’t a one and only. Haha, great job.
Thanks – I always liked Sonnet 29 and then some years ago stumbled across Santayana’s rewrite from 1915. There is a local spoken word session coming up focusing on deceased poets and it was suggested that some kind of a mash up might work. I’ll be presenting all three: the original by WS, Santayana’s When Times Are Hard, and then this one.