Mike Miller Poet Rhyme

Depression

There's nothing to hold on to
When you begin to slide,
And the walls begin to crumble
And you have nowhere to hide.
I look to find the child in me,
That stranger to anxiety,
But the footholds of my history
Are blurred footprints in the 
sand.

I try to hold on to the bars of a 
song
But the music isn't playing, the 
metre is all wrong.
The stars in the sky are 
darkened,
My anchors have all gone.
Like driftwood borne upon the 
flow
Of some almighty undertow 
I am washed up on the shore,
Cracked and broken like before. 
I am under no delusion
This will come to some 
conclusion                             
I'm rattling the gates of 
Bethlehem
But I won't be allowed in there 
again 
So I'll settle for the sanctuary 
of sleep
And let oblivion wash this pain 
into the deep.

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Mahtab Bangalee March 3, 2019 at 12:55 AM defeated everywhere the BEING is, and at last, came to the door gate of God; oh, not allowed there......... where, where it will get the allowance power!//// excellent poetic expression on depression Mike Miller August 26, 2019 at 3:55 PM Thanks For your comment Mahtab. It’s a difficult feeling to express and your encouragement is appreciated.