Pale face
Black soul
Buried in this depressed hole
Waiting for the chance to be let out
To be free of this pain
That keeps its firm hold
The never ending madness
The pitch black darkness
That keeps getting darker
That drives me insane
Constantly spinning in my head
The world doesn't care
But the pain overwhelms
Mental is the worst to get
So as my escape
I rake, rake, rake
Until my skin
Is raw and red
And rivers are turning to oceans
Of what life I had
Until it stops
And I drop
YOU ARE READING
A Book of Poems
PoetryA book of poetry written from the heart of depressed, broken souls
