Poem about Depression
A dew drop.
A rain drop.
A pin drop.
A tiny sound. A fleeting touch of moisture.
But a drop becomes a fall.
Too many drops to count, striking indeterminately.
But a fall can be weathered.
Until a fall becomes a downpour.
And the water becomes a rising flood.
So like the working of my brain.
A drop in certain chemicals becomes a fall into depression and then a downpour of negativity, a torrent
of worthlessness, a deluge of darkness. The rising flood of hopelessness threatens to pull me under.
All for want of a drip, a drop.