As cold as a stone,
As vast as the ocean,
Are the pains that antagonise,
Going through the motions.
The nights are long,
And the days longer still,
The joy it has gone,
The hope it did kill.
Sometimes it's not easy,
To pinpoint the pain,
The lack of contentment,
The perpetual rain.
The thoughts that are clouded,
Both come and then go.
The doubts then the anger,
Accumulate and grow.
When it all gets too much,
Nothing much can be done.
Keep it frivolous and empty,
Make sure to have fun.
Because its all too much effort,
To keep worry and pain.
So I lock them away,
Or I would go insane.
YOU ARE READING
Stoneheart
PoetryA collection of poems about my coming of age, family and identity struggles and my battle with anxiety and depression as a youth.
