Our Lives Poem by John McGuire

What is it like, for us,
Our lives,
Living day to day, not at ten,
More like five,

An operating system,
Without the root files,
Slowing down,
Not giving reasons as to why,

Like a saw without its teeth,
No use, it's blunt,
Like a captain without a fleet,
Taking the brunt,

Like a nail file,
Without its ridges,
Back and forth,
No clean edges,

Like the light,
At the end of the tunnel,
Instead,
A dark muddle,

Like jogging up the hill,
When the road will never end,
Or a car after a service,
Which never mends,

We try to get by,
To work this through,
There isn't a day,
It doesn't affect you,

So why do we keep on going and going,
Because we're told it will start slowing,
On drugs, in therapy,
Never quite knowing,

So what's so frustrating,
In our lives,
Only allowing,
Fifty percent of our minds,

Depression we hate you,
You're holding us back,
Hopefully, someday soon,
We'll learn how to crack,
The disease you can't see,
So we're back on track,

So what will it be like,
Our lives,
Instead of five,
More like ten and add nine,
Feeling good, with hope and vigour,
Leaving depression behind,
Our lives brighter and bigger...