Too Complete A Circle Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Sorrow fills my soul when I leave a friend, because I don't
know when I'll see them again.

Emptiness fills me like an empty coffee cup and idly I dream
about things we've done, because there may not be a next time.

Hoping, always, to live to see another day, things don't
always work out the way you want them to.

Prayer is silently tucked away, because it doesn't work every
time, it's proof we all continue on our way.

My heart cries out in silent weeping, no one hears, because
I'm not speaking of it.

Crushing me, it's deceiving everyone around me, but I really
don't want to live anymore.

Depression is too complete a circle, so falling into it's
middle is the only solution.

Because it's middle is nothing, it is already dead.