Art Wielgus Poet Verse

Depression

This is not our way of thinking.
Distorted reality is changed by depression
in surreal representation of our mind.
We last entwined for real.

Once something went wrong,
tiresome sleeplessness and stress
or was it innocent narcotic
and burning mind its touch.

Man lasts in surreal world
with partly flaying cortex.
With neurons is wrong.
When this trial will end?

Unwanted nervousness lasts 
and pills don’t help.
This fight takes tremendous strength
from desperation to be spared.

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Jennifer Christie Temple September 2, 2016 at 12:18 PM There is so much emotion in your poem, Art. The way you have the feelings tumbling one upon another is just the way that depression strikes. A sad poem but a powerful one.