Theft In My Head Poem by fairly_random_poetry (frp)

A thick headache,
a fatigue, that never clears;
the source of my unhappiness,
the source of my tears.

It drains my energy,
it robs me of fun.
My own head works against me;
a conspiracy of one.

It even saps happy memories,
until I have nothing left.
A robbery in my mind;
a criminal theft.

I do often question,
if it's me, or my head.
But it's gone on so long,
I tend to forget.

I get up it's there.
I go to bed it's there.
It fills my day
with dread and despair.

It's sad to think;
not nice to say.
Depression feels eternal;
like it steals every day.