DEPRESSION OVERCAME MY POWER TO DREAM
Sitting alone, my parts in a huddle of self My knees pulled upward to my shoulders My head rests there all protecting my heart It is full of holes as a fisherman's used up net Memories are heavier and heavier as I grow older Some days they pour over me like a deluge of rot Were it not for God I could, yes some days I could Go into everlasting nothingness pure sleep Early in life it was all dreams, beautiful, wonderful Some dreams I achieved many were snatched away At this point I go cautiously... Sign in to see full entry.