Mental Doors
It follows you
It haunts you
It hollows you
It taunts you
It’s a part of you that has no shape
It’s the part of you that lets you control your fate
Hidden behind mental doors
Slowly turning, showing your flaws
The word itself hold so much power
Yet to get to that point when your choose your final hour
Suicide is the savour and the mistake
it stops the anger and all that hate
yet it end the happiness of whats to come
the good time, the better times, all the fun
that life can hold if you manage to hold out
through a personal hell that no one can count-
the damage it can do to an individuals mental state
ripping you apart, desiring your ultimate date
Depression and sadness are often are mistaken
the difference between the two couldn't be greatened
As one is temporary and leaves you un-harmed
while the other is deadly with a sometimes silent calm
As thoughts of death can be invoked
And then the smallest actions and words can provoke
An avalanche of despair from which one may not emerge
At least not unscathed, battered and burned
Copyright © Daniel Murphy | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment