It’s easy to give in to being depressed
To savour life’s taste and yet feel second best
To challenge yourself to win the prize
Only to find that it’s empty, worthless and composed of lies.
What’s the use of trying hard?
When others don’t and can still reach behind your guard
To juggle the balls and keep them in place
To use every bit of effort and find you weren’t even entered in the race.
I’m going to hide I need to run away
To find a space to shelter a haven that’s safe to stay
A hole in the crowd to close over me
Four walls, my own thoughts with no one allowed to see.
And I will cherish my hole it will be my home
An internal fellside over which my thoughts can roam
A refuge from the trappings of power and certainty
An impassable gate that welcomes only me

depressiondisillusionmentself doubt

◄ Communication

The beast ►


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