Silent Cry Poem by William F Glennon

Silent cries for help comes to me.
I need to put forward a plan to be.

The choice could be at great cost and sorrow.
Do I pursue the option and have no tomorrow?

There is always an alternative to seek out.
Either explanation still leaves doubt.

Gloominess of depression will
control my will. You could never
find that answer in a pill.

Fate was implanted during the formative years.
Why has this syndrome created all these fears?