My Depression

Depression is the reason for my poetry,
Perhaps the only reason I write.
Sometimes it takes over me completely,
And poetry helps me survive the night.

Thinking too much of the darkness
Leaves my heart feeling worn and bored,
Yet it’s hard to let go of
All the things I once adored.

Still, I want to set them free,
Let them drift out of my mind—
But I don’t know how to escape
When I feel so lost and blind.

I walk the streets as always,
A soft breeze brushes my soul,
Depression turns my thoughts to sorrow,
Yet keeps me strangely in control.

One day this pain will turn to light,
And everything will feel complete,
There’ll be a place of quiet peace
Where I can finally breathe.

I wait for that gentle day
When life feels soft and beautiful,
Then no more shadows will remain
Inside my warm, healing soul.