Black Dog
He was prone to falling into his own shadow.
Sunlight beat upon his sheltering mind
forcing him to flee deeper into a phantom night
that lived like an unspoken secret in daylight.
When the 'black dogs' teeth bit it always seemed very sorry.
It hung its head and walked by his side ashamed and contrite
yet the bite festered for days anyway
until the shadow died from its own pitiful death.
Depression is not a thing, not even a cloud.
It’s a wish to be a better failure. a stronger hypocrite.
Of course most will never admit this
and that is why that black dog will be your friend for life.
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