Mar 2014
At times, I believe I am more than just my own worst enemy
At times, it seems I am incapable of finding peace
No matter how I struggle to find comfort in the fact that my day will come
There are too many days where everything seems like nothing
And far too few where nothing seems like everything
Maybe it is just this depression that I can never quite shake
Or maybe it is the fact of so many years holding to the words I speak to others
As the comfort they provide finds no home in my own endeavours
For it is getting harder to hold to hope more often in the bad times
When the bad times come more frequently, with no resolution but unrestful sleep
And the dreams that have finally returned to me
Bring more often than not what I cannot have and cannot hold
As if living ghosts, too impatient to wait for their demise
There are so many in the physical world who seek my words and advice
When that very advice fails me time and time again
And I cannot understand how such a thing can be so
I have waited so long, and have held to hope until my fingers have bled
But far too often it seems hope is all I get in return
Until even my poetry, which is so often my salvation, begins to seem monotonous to me
And every day that passes waiting for things to improve becomes a little harder
My words become more struggled and strangled
And the only consolation is that they may help others, even if not myself at times
Maybe it is just so many years of waiting, with no change or relief
Maybe it is just my depression finally getting the better of me
Maybe I am just not as strong as I used to be
So weary and tired from this repetitive journey
Travelling so many weary miles
Only to find myself at the beginning time and time again
Until even when there are smiles and laughter
Even when there are shoulders to cry on and friends beside me
Even when the storms of mind flee and the world seems beautiful
Even when I know things can't stay like this forever
The seconds drag on like hours
The hours seem as days
And the days seem eternal
And the only hope left to hold on to
Is that hope continues to hold on as tightly as I do
Until my day finally arrives
At times, it seems I am incapable of finding peace
No matter how I struggle to find comfort in the fact that my day will come
There are too many days where everything seems like nothing
And far too few where nothing seems like everything
Maybe it is just this depression that I can never quite shake
Or maybe it is the fact of so many years holding to the words I speak to others
As the comfort they provide finds no home in my own endeavours
For it is getting harder to hold to hope more often in the bad times
When the bad times come more frequently, with no resolution but unrestful sleep
And the dreams that have finally returned to me
Bring more often than not what I cannot have and cannot hold
As if living ghosts, too impatient to wait for their demise
There are so many in the physical world who seek my words and advice
When that very advice fails me time and time again
And I cannot understand how such a thing can be so
I have waited so long, and have held to hope until my fingers have bled
But far too often it seems hope is all I get in return
Until even my poetry, which is so often my salvation, begins to seem monotonous to me
And every day that passes waiting for things to improve becomes a little harder
My words become more struggled and strangled
And the only consolation is that they may help others, even if not myself at times
Maybe it is just so many years of waiting, with no change or relief
Maybe it is just my depression finally getting the better of me
Maybe I am just not as strong as I used to be
So weary and tired from this repetitive journey
Travelling so many weary miles
Only to find myself at the beginning time and time again
Until even when there are smiles and laughter
Even when there are shoulders to cry on and friends beside me
Even when the storms of mind flee and the world seems beautiful
Even when I know things can't stay like this forever
The seconds drag on like hours
The hours seem as days
And the days seem eternal
And the only hope left to hold on to
Is that hope continues to hold on as tightly as I do
Until my day finally arrives
