There is a rat
I call Depression
Inside me,
Eating at my innards.
The pain goes to my throat
So I am choking on my tears
My tears of blood.
Would that I could
Write of something else,
Would that I could.
And I am so very tired
If I could only end it all
Looking at words on the page
that reflect back to me
my misery.
And where am I?
YOU ARE READING
Boy Meets Depression
PoésieI scream but there's no sound , i cry but there's no tears , is this life , or am i isolated with emotion.
