Depression

This is not a case of anger turned inward,
rather, it is the death of a beautiful bird.
When life falls apart, yet no sound is heard,
it’s like hearing a joke, with all the words slurred.

Watching lovers walking hand in hand,
across your chest tightens unbreakable bands.
All of your joy buried beneath tons of wet sand,
a fire that dies, no matter how hard it’s fanned.

Waves of regret crash down with a boom,
heartbeats resound like the call of your doom.
Stitching dark cloaks, like each weave of a loom,
to cover the windows of your lonely room.

Is there no way out of this hateful box,
each second a lifetime on life’s endless clock.
In a safe of hope will my soul I lock,
but a combination of pain will always knock.

Therapy, meds and friends sometimes work,
yet always this affliction is my patient clerk.
I know now within me this demon will lurk,
again it will pull me into it’s putrid murk.

Still, I persevere through all of this pain,
knowing not what it is that I’ll one day gain.
In my heart I know that I’m not insane,
for one day I’ll conquer this onerous bane.