Ceiling

About being too depressed to get out of bed

Morning light casts shadows upon the ceiling grains
Further pronouncing the stucco's terrains
Their sharpness threatens stalactite fragility
Til Noon’s glow reveals their durability
The relentless white, heavy overhead
It’s weight, I blame, ties me to my bed

Author's Note

This poem is what I feel on the days when the weight of depression can sometimes hold me down as I struggle to get out of bed.