I feel a numbing purple fog permeate my heavy heart
Its creeping tendrils fill my mind with melancholy mauve
Dark red irrationality amplifies my fears
Begetting a cacophony
Of harsh discordant tears
And then a scarlet stranglehold grips me around the throat
I choke out an unwilling bark
Depression’s bleak foghorn
The storm breaks
The pain recedes
Leaving its driftwood of broken dreams
I gaze upon this sad debris
And ponder life’s futility
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4 comments:
I know depression too well. That poem is highly expressive and accurate. Thanks.
Cheer up! It always passes after a good sleep. :) Thanks again for your comment.
I never sleep for more than 4 hours
4 hours, huh? You must be sleepy. I need 8-10 hours most nights. I have always been a big sleeper.
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