Treasure Island

Bob Fletcher

(December 25th 1954 / London)

The Black dog Barks


38725

Anxiety disorder makes you feel like crap
It fluctuates your mental state and puts you in a flap
When someone casts a glance your way or somehow disapproves
It causes changes to the brain perspective you may loose.

Anxiety disorder I’m really feeling strife
It makes you hypersensitive to criticism in this life
I know life has its problems and sometimes life’s not easy
But straight away my brain reacts and makes me feel quite queasy

I’ve often thought to end it all just to get some peace
That all these emotions would terminally cease
I remember the way I used to laugh and see the world at ease
But the laughing stopped long ago by this anxious disease

If I could end it all today without the pain or guilt
To spite the world and all its ill with no emotions spilt
I would be oblivious to all the nagging chatter
After Im dead and in my grave I wont really matter

Submitted: Monday, October 21, 2013
Edited: Friday, November 15, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

Just about the Black pit of despair or the black dog of depression barking. shit happens all too often and sometimes it'll catch you off guard and you too will be bitten by the Black dog.

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