Manic Poem by Myrtle Thomas

Manic



I felt like cold ebony even in the sun
this thing called depression stays so very long
tearing through my mind, devouring my soul
beating me with branches of thorns
and taking me to places I didn't want to go

always in the corner, hiding behind a wall
he tries to entrap me with devices to fall

vision is dim in the darkness of a hollow room
taunts of failure permeate life's gloom
the diamond of my youth slipped through my hand
to become a stone of ebony, cold black lost in the sand

tiny in fear that looms so large
nowhere to run, nowhere to hide
I've lost control, I'm not in charge
my eyes cast down in a sorrowful stare
feeling that populace of society really just don't care.

sleep evades the troubled soul and runs far away
maybe sleep also fears this diagnosis to catch it some day
lonely seems a companion to sit with and converse
until the time arrives when I'm carried away in a hearse

Myrtle Thomas

Depression is a very real illness that can strike anyone at anytime.
There is no one who can beg you to get over it, for you really don't want to feel
this way, in the first place.