Was never a writer, far less a poet Not even a fan of the written verse Fighting my demons, my gloom My life, a quagmire, a curse
Depression, the jealous lover It doesnt want to let you go Weaves its lies and stories Toxic *****, it kills you slow
Floundering in the dark tempest My boat about to sink No buoy, beacon or light A Life was at the brink
My pain put forth in confused lines thoughts battling impending doom Dark morbid verses, Penned in dark claustrophobic rooms
And then discovered a haven Of imagination, beauty and light A place of beautiful lines and radiance I grabbed it with all my might
I am much better today The writing has set me free i fly, an Icarus in the blue sky yonder And I thank you all @ hello poetry
I had to write this. As i visit my doctor tomorrow and talk of the progress i have made in the last few months, significant part of my returning to normalcy is to you lovely poets at HP. You share your glorious poems, stop, read my lines, sometimes good or bad, like n love them and comment. It has helped me in so many ways. Thank you, Poets!!