Despair doesn’t even feel close enough to describing it.
A pit doesn’t sound deep enough
And a mountain just isn’t quite big enough
The emptiness I feel
leaves a hollow echoing
that’s a screeching ringing
That’s just growing
and bellowing
and destroying
everything
I’m beyond broken tattered and shattered
Not even reaching for abused and battered
Barely an existence of being
I’ll be gone soon enough
so what does it matter
Just carry on with your own stuff.
-
Author:
blessednloved (
Offline) - Published: February 12th, 2024 19:37
- Comment from author about the poem: Feeling is too much work sometimes.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 3
- User favorite of this poem: Qurrathul Ain.
Offline)
Comments1
felt this in my soul
Im glad you liked it… I know it’s pretty cliche to write poetry about depression but sometimes you just gotta …
hey it's not cliché if it's felt by so many people
3 more comments
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.