A poem about depression...

Mental Health Information Centre (MHIC): 021 938 9229 or email mhic@sun.ac.za }

I wake up in the morning,

mostly feeling empty and a sense of yawning,

slowly my mind starts filling with previous memories,

and all the endless painful longing for serenities.

Isn’t it sad?

Some of us go to bed not wanting to wake up,

But others – waking up - it makes glad,

It makes me mad that I can be glad while you are sad, others are sad, but I am glad…

It makes me mad.

Don’t you see it?

The silent suffering, the noose of depression tightening,

Trying to cling on to that one thin string

keeping our chin in a grin,

Hurting, burning, turning, lurking, cursing, circling, crying, losing, asking, praying…why God?

Why the pain?

Is staying strong in this Lane all in vain trying to stay on this planet defined by a

name and fame.

Isn’t it unfair?

Some of us live in the uttermost despair,

But others, others, they blow it off as if it was just a bit of hot air,

Some of us are drowning in despair, hanging on to the last piece of thread,

All they need is a Lord’s Prayer,

Just - a - Lord’s Prayer.

10/09/2021