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Tuesday
May 29, 2012
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  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1504798  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Never Without Hope
Depression poem for the III Campfire - dedicated to Endeavor, Stacy L Stiles.
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                                       Helpless once more- helpless again
                                       With a mind circling the drain.
                                       Tittering where I’ve been before—
                                       At the door to the tubes décor.
                                       The pipe of life carrying me
                                       This time into a brackish sea,
                                       The sea that flows from swollen eyes,
                                       The sea that carries my demise
                                       Flows uncontrolled within my low,
                                       The sea in which I am the foe,
                                       The foe of things I truly know.
                                       As in my mind, I form the lie
                                       That I’m alone- without ally.
                                       I flow in doubt of what is real 
                                       Thinking that time will never heal
                                       The pain I claim as only mine,
                                       The pain that started my decline.
                                       My brain tells me the time will pass
                                       As I’m clutching the ring of brass—
                                       The ring that leads into the hole,
                                       Into the darkness of my soul,
                                       Into the drain all wet and dark
                                       As my mind tries to hold its spark.
                                       It seems easier to let go
                                       And let my mind flow deep below,
                                       To fall so deep and not comeback
                                       To become part of the plaque
                                       That formed from life- a life of lack.
                                       But now a hand grabs for my wrist
                                       And lifts me up with its insist.
                                       My tears are dried by Endeavor—
                                       Endeavor speaks and says, “Never.”
© Copyright 2008 jimmyfin (UN: jimmyfin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
jimmyfin has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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