Treasure Island

Lawerence Mize, Sr.

(October 29,1949 / Baltimore, Maryland)

Depression


It's in the eyes
That stare straight ahead
That vacant look
That shows nothing need be said

No glimmer of hope
From facial expressions
Just outward signs
Of deep depression

Wrists marked
From failed attempts
Disheveled clothes
On bodies listless and limp

No vestige of hope
Of things to be
Lives spent wasted
Broken... for all to see

Depression grips
The mind and soul
Leaving you empty
Leaving you cold

Submitted: Monday, December 16, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, December 17, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

The long, lonely, and dark days of winter can play havoc with the mind sometimes bringing on deep depressions. I thought about that while at work and wrote this poem.

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