OOZE

The feeling of being depressed

OOZE
By Gianna Schiller

Only this year can show
How his skin is stained,
Forever touched
Always can be covered up,
But never hidden forever
He became deprived;
Deprived of stability
A tenacious soldier
Reeling, Falling out of line.

His soul, a blank white page
Is wordless
Until a black ooze
Snakes its words
Defiling the paper
A fulfilled individual
Submerging ones self
Into the smoky pit of licorice ooze.

Plunging, unwillingly encompassing
Every inch of the soul
Drowning him with a grip
To make him unbalanced
With what’s real, what’s illogical
He recuperates slowly
Drying his hide of the leftover toxin
Maybe life is worth
Now existing fully