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One thing can't be denied about depression;
It wounds my soul, yielding no concession.
Though my tears freely flow, pouring like rain,
It has no compassion, but increases my pain.
When my soul is overcome with grief,
I withdraw to my room, but there is no relief.
Though I'm knocked down, tread upon, beaten, and floored,
Depression injects pain that cannot be ignored.
When I'm abandoned, betrayed, and dumped by the wayside,
Depression consumes me as if by a landslide.
It comes not as a tale, nor as a myth,
It's a force that demands to be reckoned with.
When the pain from my loss refuses to be brief,
I know I must enter into the process of grief.
A necessary process, through which I must travel,
I may pray that I die as my mind I unravel.
How could others inflict pain, so impaling and heated,
When I treated them as I wanted to be treated?
Though I struggle along, drawing strength reserved,
The pain hurts even more when it's undeserved.
Then when life becomes too torturous to bear,
Insight comes from a Power who really does care.
He comforts me and puts my mind at ease,
When I remember I've survived things worse than these.
And if not, I'll consider the plight of another,
One whose lost a child, father, or mother.
Or a child in a wheelchair watching others at play,
"What's fair about this?" to himself he must say.
When depression devours, I'll stand back and see
That so many others are worse off than me.
But they still carry on, to grow and to thrive;
It's then that I'll know... I will also survive!
~ Author Unknown ~
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