Emotion

When Depression took control,

Its first mate Anxiety at its right hand,

Nothing could be done.

 

Years had spun by,

Logic as my guide,

Emotion an alien concept.

 

How could I fight my new antagonists,

The villains to my heroine,

When I didn't have the weaponry?

 

How could I identify them,

Their backstories,

When I had no clue where their roots lay?

 

Trying to fight a losing battle,

Using every bit of logic I had,

I shoved at my monsters with all my might.

 

Useless.

 

Stuck on my knees,

Trying to hold myself up,

I was ready to quit.

 

Never a heroine,

Not me.

I was weak.

 

As they moved to deal their final blow,

As I prepared my last breath,

A guiding light appeared.

 

Words flowed from me,

A medley of analogies and metaphors,

Streaming into line.

 

As every line formed,

As stanzas crushed together,

I felt myself grow more powerful.

 

I could beat my monsters,

Destroy my demons,

Annihilate my antagonists.

 

Armed with poetry,

I knew in my heart,

I could do anything.

This poem is about: 
Me

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