He has strived to survive
He is keeping himself alive
He knows his responsibilities
He is bringing life stability
They preach him salvation
Many die of starvation
Cyclic is the nature of the Creation
There is no final destination
Gloomy pictures he stops to paint
He refuses to be a saint

What a depth of
knowledge
Depth of thought
Depth of wisdom
Depth of understanding
Depth of emotions
Depth of feelings
Poets on HelloPoetry demonstrate
What a deep messages lie
Underneath
Cliches are put to shame
Trash doesn't find trash to hide
The poets are eulogised
Difficult for shallow or no poet like me to survive

whatever happens, promise
you’ll remember what it’s like

to fight for something even if
youre not sure if you’ll survive.

to beg for mercy, plead for help,
but no one bats an eye.

so take a second, “momento mori”;
remember, you will die.

With every fall,
She picks herself up,
Finds an inner strength,
Reminding her she’s tough.
She walks on,
Never looking back,
Holding on to those words,
That hope dies last.

If I were a stone I would not believe
that the medow looks after the rose
To be harded is to be made muted
any stone that blackens will not shine
In my heart of hearts I know this truth
that freedom is made from aching hearts
who sigh beneath the fullest moons
If sweetness is a weakness then think of me
as the lonely rose hidden by the tall grasses
I have thrived where others would not survive.

I want to help,
talk to me,
I can help you.

Depression rates are increasing,
Will you be the next victim?

Depression can cause you to feel
numb,
broken,
alone,
scared,
unloved,
or unwanted

Depression can tear you into a trillion little pieces
and scatter you all over the floor

Others don't help clean up,
Instead, they walk all over you,
they push you to the side,
hide you in a
trashcan....

They tell you that you're trash,
you tell the mirror.

They tell you no one wants you,
You tell the mirror.

They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the mirror.

They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the razor.

They tell you that you are worthless,
you tell the red stained water.

They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the doctor.

They tell your mom that they were so so close to you,
you tell God it's a lie...

Depression is hurting
our souls,
our hearts,
our physical bodies.
Are you next?

Talking helps.

Talking hurts.

Talking is overwhelming.

But you have to do it.

Pick up the scrapes,

glue them together,

find peace with yourself.

Understand that you have to want to be helped in order for ANYONE to help you.

Understand that you can be glued back together.

Yes, there are scars, but they show others what you have
gone through,
dealt with,
survived.

You can survive,
because right now, you are still here reading this poem.

Whats Scarier?

The snake you can not see? Or the snake that let you care for it and hold it, then it attacked you without warning? Its not the trust that is broken, but now the fear of the unknown. It’s the pain of the betrayal that is scary. The open and willingness you once had and now is blocked by the walls that are present. These walls that will forever stand as a reminder of the beautiful snake you once trusted and cared for, that so quickly turned against you.

There once was a boy who had it all in his eyes,
A loving and caring Girlfriend, A best friend who would always hear him out and help whenever she was needed, a part-time job that he loved, and a friend who would always discuss strange and interesting topics.
In his eyes, he had it all, and in a matter of a year, he lost it all.
His girlfriend left him for another man and in the same time frame that they had dated, she ended up married to that man,
A best friend that he took for granted and hurt in more ways than one and never speaks or hears from,
A friend who is now thousands of miles away and barley speaks to anymore thanks to his job,
And a job that he quit in order to pursue what he thought was right.
But how did it come to this? It's simple, he lost sight of who he once was and in-turn pushed those people away.
He became over-needy with his girlfriend, afraid that she was constantly cheating and did things without telling her, his anger started to show more often when he was with her due to drama that was out of his control, which caused her to leave when he needed her most,
He hurt his best friend by having feelings for her, he never thought about how she felt, and in turn caused her a summer of pain and hurt.
He also hurt her more by getting into a relationship with her after his last one and would make constant remarks about how he wished he was with his ex while with her, which pushed her and pained her to hear.
He lost his friend because he never discussed his problems with him and pushed him away in fear that he would hurt him to.
He quit his job because he felt that the next part of his life would be a changing point, good news is, it was...but only for a short time
In that short time he slowly got better, slowly made more friends, slowly got over his ex, slowly stopped with his vape, got rid of his steel friend that caused him to bleed red and slowly worked on bettering himself,
But that short freedom came to a holt when he was forced back into his old life, his old environment, and his old room, a room filled with painful memories, filled with the sadness and dis-spare that never left.
And now, there's more drama that's in his life, not from his own actions, but from the actions of others, actions that cannot be undone, actions that affect him nearly every day of his life.
Now, he doesn't have that freedom he once did and more importantly, he doesn't have anything, not anymore,
Sure, he has "friends" , he has a place to survive, but those friends don't listen to his problems, they don't ask whats wrong, they don't feel the need to help thanks to the facade that he has put up, a facade that is needed in order to not push them away.
His only real friends now....
are the vape in his hands, the sadness and the nostalgia in his head, and the exhaustion that he feels on a daily basis.
But he keeps on going, believing that there has to be a light at the end of this never ending tunnel he has placed himself in, believing that there has to be more to the story, more good that has to come...but he gets more and more tired as the days pass.
Don't be like me,
Don't take things for granted, don't lose sight of who you want to be, don't ignore the pain of others, don't get placed in an environment that you'll fail in and if you do, look for the positives there, and more importantly, don't let your feelings control every action you take, there are times where emotion is necessary, and times where it's not.
Keep going, keep swimming in your own sea, keep walking in your tunnel, and when the monsters of your past re-appear, don't let them swallow you whole, but don't ignore them, simply wave and keep going towards the end of your path.
It's easy to say this stuff, but executing it is a whole other matter, always remember that.
but more importantly,
D O N ' T  M A K E  T H E  S A M E  M I S T A K E ' S  A S  me.

I feel her stir and stroke her hand.
My plan is to sedate her, gently bait her to sleep,
Just a while longer, to somewhere deep,
Where she can keep to her dreams and in those dreams recede.

The seams of this island
Are too fragile for her agile hands.
When she wakes, she shakes mountains,
And tangles the sky by the locks of her hair.
And sighs of rain—alert, at her thunderous applause—
May as well be daggers for the damage they cause.
We’d barely survived her, so I now lay beside her.
I wrap her in lullabies, so life may thrive despite her.

I feel her stir, and stroke her hand.
There was only ever this feeble plan.
The seas are calm; it’s barely dawn.
I hold my breath and she slumbers on.