Carolyn Ford Witt
I Am, crawling in the basement
Of a house so-called depression,
Cannot lift myself from under
This Rock of non-expression.
Just lingering in the darkness,
Not a candle in the way
And now I lie here motionless
Into another day.
No feelings in my body,
No thoughts to fill my mind;
For if I cannot awake from this
My fate is now resigned.
There lurking in the darkness
Is one who summons me.
The man who holds the sickle
Does now call out in glee.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
Carolyn Ford Witt's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (-DEPRESSION- by Carolyn Ford Witt )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Kaise mai ye likh deta hoon! !, Ajeet Singh Dhruv
- Final Frontier, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Doors Of Destiny, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Reproductions Through Music, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Safest place, gajanan mishra
- To whom I am going, gajanan mishra
- In The Process Of Existence, Naveed Akram
- Thy presence, binod bastola
- My Maiden's Love Is Like A Cloud In June, Chibueze Oscar Osuji
- दिल को हरदम dil ko hardam, hasmukh amathalal