They made me vulnerable,
what they did to me was untolerable,
unforgivable.
They made me feel terrible, horrible, miserable.
They kept chasing me for not being one of them,
while running I came upon a cliff,
the board on top of it read "depression",
it felt like fate was pouring in confusion.
They kept harassing me,
coming closer with each step,
there was no room to side-step,
no time to prep.
Before my heart could process,
they were few steps away,
preparing to pounce like predator on prey,
smirking with satisfaction, they made their way.
Anxiety hit me in fractions,
and before I knew it,
I was in midair,
and they did not care.
I hit the ground and people told me,
to stop being depressed,
to just come up in moments,
but no one understood this was not my choice.
I did not come here by choice,
I came here because I was forced.
sitting in the valley, hopeless, helpless;
I looked up and saw another mountain, another hope.
I saw dead souls around me who had given up,
and never had hope to look up,
although some brave ones climbed their mountains,
I did too, slowly and cautiously.
Learning with each fault,
I climbed and climbed for a while,
it took weeks to learn and months to master,
the last step did falter.
But I reached the top,
as I smiled I noticed,
my lips were stuck in a straight line,
until now, until I had accomplished.
All the scars from climbing,
are a mark of bravery.
All the tears from pleading,
are a reminder of a higher power, Lord.
After getting out of "depression",
it is hard for one to push me back in.
The ones who don't get pushed into it,
remain weak.
The ones who do,
but remain hopeless, are hopeless,
but the ones who struggle out of it,
take a gift with them; scars and strength.
~A.S
In the last chapter many people agreed with the idea of an explanation at the end so here it is;
In this poem depression is like a pit or valley in which many people reside, there are people who gave up hope and killed themselves ( 8th para, "dead souls") and then there are people who did not give up and climbed out of it, and it cost them some time, tears, strength and hope to do it but when they came out of the valley, they received a gift in return, they became stronger, the gift was strength.
YOU ARE READING
Escalating| #Wattys2017
PoetryA collection of poems from the journal of a pre-teen, living on planet earth, wishing for things to be perfect. "What defines us is how well we rise after falling." ~Unknown Also don't copy my work, I am not asking you to do this, it's...
