Depression

A bellowing dark cloud fills into a glass box; where I stand

I didn’t ask for it, nor can I make it leave

It fills up the room, slowly gaining power

As if it wants to knock me down, in time

I feel as if I am small beetle climbing up a large mound of mud

With every progress I seem to make, I just slide right back down

The thick fog suffuses the empty air where happiness once lived

Sounds of family and friends, drift inside

Yet they are muffled, and cannot get through the haze

Reaching for them, I set my palm on the glass

Greeted by a cold surface, my hand is quickly removed

I am alone

My mind wonders if the cloud will reach me

Will it penetrate my skin, can I handle it?

Some days, my fists pound on the glass

Others, are filled with anxious waiting

With every sunrise, the pall seems to suck up more

Anxiety, fear, hate, sadness, depression

One crack in the glass, is all I need

To give me hope