Friday, August 12, 2016

IN THE MIST OF DEPRESSION I WRIGHT


I write while in my state of depression
My emotions feel like their strapped to a bumper of a car
To be dragged for miles
In this state, I contemplate my death
That I will die without a care
Or the loving embarrasses of a woman
It is the entrance way
To relieving the never ending strain on my brain
Controlled by confusion
everyone telling me what to do
My happiness drained out
With my tears
I dream of a way of escape
From all this
In this cavern of depression
I look up to see the sun
And see everything I dream of

©Copyright 2016 Thomas Dooley

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