The End

A poem I wrote about depression.

The End

 

Time stands still,

as I swallow this bitter pill.

My freewill is to escape

this escapade I'm trapped in.

 

When will the shade be drawn?

When will the final act play out?

I'm ready to shout and dance

 with glee to be free

of this flea under my skin.

 

I'm on my knees

praying for the curtain

to descend and

the sign to read,

 

The End.

Author's Note

I wrote this when I was having a bout of depression last year.

Reviews

[Tommy]

I suffer from bipolar and you hit the lows to a tee. I when I am not medicated, I often wish for death, not only of the body but of the soul; To just be erased. Sad really; makes me happy they have meds that can help. Hope you don't have to visit this depression again.

Sad, but great expression!
RLG,
Tommy

[Rose Tyler]

Excellent.