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Depression
September 1, 2014
Golden rays of sunlight raining
down, warm upon my skin
in contrast to the blackness ever-growing,
a void deep within.
It moves through my veins,
fluid like blood but as cold as ice.
Its existence is my bane,
and giving in is my vice.
Come on and smile!
when I would much rather cry.
Push on for a while!
when inside I feel ready to die.
I’m tired of fighting this unending oppression.
Just let me curl up and sleep in utter dejection.
© Anonymous
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