Who Is Depression?

by Ren   Feb 5, 2006


Rain begins,
Its slow patter on my window.
The drops reflect my soft tears,
That slide down my face,
As I stare out into nothingness,
Zoning out into space.

The room becomes colder,
Sending shivers through my body,
My breath becomes air,
That I can now see...

The unwelcoming pain of darkness soon hits me.

It is breathing down my neck,
With breath icy cold.
His stone like hands,
Caressing my body,
Whispering fatal words,
Into my ear.
His eyes are a black warp,
That hypnotize me.

His hand slips into mine,
And he takes me away,
To a nearby place,
Where my swollen eyes can see,
And my words and feelings,
Can be what they want to be.
My weary feet,
Can take me far,
My pain becomes,
Just another scar.

It is a place to be heard...
And understood.

At least that's what I thought...

It soon hits me hard,
That I have gone too far.
My world begins to spin,
And before I know it,
I am being dragged along,
In chains,
The only thing I can feel,
Is my ever-growing pain.

My mouth is taped shut,
Words I cannot speak,
My heart is hurting in a way,
I can still never describe,
The feeling then throws me away...

So so far away...

Where I am living behind black steeled bars.

His promises were broken,
His words seduced,
And that was when this feeling,
Was finally introduced.

All that I have described to you,
All those words that make no good impression,
All that I have just relived,
Name is Depression.

He creeps into your body,
When you least expect it,
Taking you to a world,
That brings you to tears.

He introduces a blade...
Pills...
And lies...
So that pleasure is not to exist,
In your forever crying eyes.

Abusing this way is like a game,
He plays it with everyone...
Offering such a world,
That you think must be peace,
But then you go so far,
Where you can't turn back...
A world of suffocating sorrow...
A place of the blackest black.

He always wins,
But not everyone loses,
The game that is played is not a choice,
But the person who plays is the one who chooses.

Whether or not you are sad,
You don't have to go with what is bad.
When he takes you this way,
Don't become a stray,
Cause once you go too far,
There's no turning back...

In this world of chaos,
It's easy to lose track...

2


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Latest Comments

  • 8 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Hello Ren

    Who is depression indeed....

    I love that you have personified this condition because for those who have suffered it, it really can feel like a physical enemy - so hard does it hit you. But that's what's so ultimately frightening: it affects you in a way you wouldn't think something that wasn't physical could. So, not physical, but real enough.
    It is true, too, that it sneaks up on you and once it has been let in (which is normally beyond our control) it is very hard to stop and things just get worse.

    Ren, your description in this poem is excellent - it made me shudder as I read it because it paints such a vividly truthful picture of this silent assassin.

    All the very best and keep well,
    Ben

    • 8 years ago

      by Ren

      Thank you so much Ben!!! I always appreciate your thoughtful comments and encouraging words. Whenever you describe your thoughts and feelings about my poems, you seem to steal the very emotions and points straight from my mind.
      Thank you for taking the time to read and comment :)
      Please take care and have a wonderful night! :)

  • 18 years ago

    by Sovanny

    Omg this is such a great poem....oh and um you wrote a comment about shattered pieces thanks but my dad doosent hurt me it's just the way i feel sometimes you know.......i don't know where it's from but i think it's from all the pain i've been through....your such a better poet then me...

  • 18 years ago

    by brokenpieces38

    I love your poem! It shows expression and you say what you want people to see. Great poem! Could you maybe check out a few of mine? Thanks,
    ~brokenpieces38