Comes the day the black dogs run
Barking and howling blacking out the sun
They have no manners and never care
Leave you laying in deep despair
They make you sad or so they try
Bring you tears and make you cry
They drag you down to the darkest depths
Your powers gone and you feel inept
No one knows the turmoil you suffer
Please help me you hear me utter
They make you drink a bottle or two
To numb the pain you have another few
The tablets help for another day
But soon they're back and you go astray
Here they come the dogs of hell
I sit here and I'm under their spell
End the pain I tell myself
Kill the dogs and send them away
So I may see another day
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Author:
grange_m (
Offline) - Published: January 7th, 2016 00:54
- Comment from author about the poem: The pain of depression
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments1
Drugs and alcohol are useful, I will not deny. I testify by the simple fact I'm still alive. But if someone is advocating, they are hating. I quit for years, punished my haters, and sure I'm a user, but it's all my own terms. They think of you as someone weak, wholly incapable of, say, thrusting a screwdriver in their neck, and of course I advocate no such thing, but use your imagination. YOU are the master of your own destiny.
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