Through the long dark passage I walk alone
Echo whispering voices of people that have gone
Drizzling pain from the ceiling does fall down
On my head it lands upon me like a thorny crown
Witches and goblins from a long ago past age
Try to conceal their inner haunting burning rage
Red eyes glowing like fire from a deep abyss
From the ground arises a smell of a static mist
Plumes of duality fight for my limited brain
As the walls surround me like prickling pain
Blooming from only past planted rotten seeds
As my scab covered wrist continues to bleed
Comments
Never having had...
the kind of crippling pain of depression or anxiety, that I see prevelant in today's society, I cannot speak to it, except to emphasize that there are many organizations and people that are there for you and others like you. I know, I know... I don't know what it's like; I only repeat that there are those out there, who will help if you ask. As to your poem; I can only say that you may benefit from a few commas here and there to keep the rhythm, otherwise it is a vivid reminder that the problem exists and you have done a good job, bringing it to the fore. ~ Geezer.
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Thanks
Thanks Geezer for your comment. I really appreciate it. I would only say that some people, not all, that are depressed don't see that they are depressed. If you live with abnormity long enough it becomes normal. If that makes sense.
Yeah...
unfortunately it does. There are a couple of people in my life that are clinically depressed and refuse all help, choosing to lash out in anger instead; I live with that!
~ Geezer.
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Another well written poem
Describing the daily struggles of living with depression. I applaud you for bringing awareness and speaking from your own experiences. There are many who don't realize they need help or that help is available. Then there are those who choose to suffer silently. Well done.
In between
Thanks Rose. I suppose I consider myself stuck somewhere between the two.
Dear Poet!
Poetic dedication immersed in the awakening flame of impeccable poetic power. A new addition rich in extraordinary artistic thought.
When a poem carries poetic energy it pleases my heart. Lively presentation. Amazing nature of writing. Left behind the charm.
Excellent!
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Thanks
Thanks Jackweb. This one was a ruff one for me to write.
hello,
this is a very brave write. I am one who deals with clinical depression. it is a real butt-kicker, somehow we deal with it. I really feel for others who are afflicted. this is great that you can write about it, I know it helps me.
*hugs & good wishes, Cat
Thanks
Thanks Cat. Writing helps me a lot too. I do not know what I would do without it. It is strange I can have words to write come to me for like 4 or 5 poems some days nothing.
Our muses are...
strange souls, they come and go as they like. Sometimes, mine will highjack something I have started and run off with it! She always does a fantastic job! Sometimes she deserts me and leaves me hanging with something unfinished, only to return days later and tear up what we have done and start over, or to do something she was working on while she was gone! Don't fret, let her have her head. [I don't know why, but they almost always seem to be female.] Anyway, keep up the good work you both are doing fine. ~ Geezer.
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Thanks
Thanks Geezer