Each of us has our own trench,
a black pit we must bare
before we can breathe in the morning air.
For those of us who fear the silence,
our trench is tended by depression.
But we must take a stand to enter in
to the pit of fear and silence.
I am not asking you to go to the bottom,
but to help me problem solve my problem.
No one can face down my demons for me,
but I'll need you to face me from the ridge,
as I cross over this silent bridge.
Cloak me with hope and encouragement
as I plummet down to dwell in my trench.
And I will sit here in the dark,
receiving the yellow letters you sent,
until I find what has me torn apart.