Michael P. McParland

Gold Star - 9,888 Points (July 19 1983)

The Mist

Through the mist I wander.
With all the time to ponder.
Beasts of such ferocity come at me with such intensity.
I continue on of necessity,
to find a true philosophy.

The mists so dense.
I need to make recompense.
For all that's wrong I must confess.
I cannot stand this lonely test.
In the mist and in the midst.
I'm truly blind it gives me fits.

The mist is thick,
It eats you cold and quick.
Beats you madly like a switch.
The mist is dark it kills the heart.
Madly eats you like a shark.
The mist is cold and I grow old.
Hopefully soon I'll find my hold.

Submitted: Saturday, December 27, 2014

Topic of this poem: depression

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