Depression
Each day when I look in the mirror,
I see sorrow that no one else sees.
A burial shroud of depression
has gathered its grip about me.
I wish I could live without shadows
and walk where the others have been.
I'd tell everyone that I'd meet there
how I've left a life that's never been.
But this doom somehow follows through thick and thin.
I've tried hard to leave it behind.
So I guess I'll just be what I'm meant to be
and get used to a life not desired.
It brings sadness to turn from the sunshine
and christen the funeral pyre,
but the burial shroud of depression
wraps me tight and holds to the fire.
Copyright © Madeleine Mclaughlin | Year Posted 2010
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