Depression—
Creeping on me like a slow motion tide.
Hidden at first but now full-blown,
it covers me with a cloak of doubt
about tomorrow and my being.
It will not shake off
like drops of water after the rain,
nor soak into my towel of faith.
My brain shouts silently at me;
it is my fault.
The dark cloud gathers above my head
and a festering wound inside
carries its ugly sore to the surface.
It breaks through and covers me
until I cannot think clearly.
(An obsession to end this life….tomorrow.)
(C) George E Thompson
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A state of mind clearly depicted and poetized.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Hugs Angela
Regis
that you can stack and stand on and learn from and hopefully get better
enjoyed the reality here
cynth'ya lewis reed
A straight to the point write, and very much informative.
Thank you for sharing,
From the Heart of an Artist Quiet Storm