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This poem highlights my personal, internal conflict, with depression.
On many occasions, it nearly won.
Fortune has smiled upon me now, and although I still fight it, it has less power. With God in my corner and with the help I have sought out, my loving family and friends, psychologists and counsellors, I now have more happy days than bad.
Again, enjoy.
The Black Dog
Rough, coarse fur, hackled and wild
Ears laid back, it hunts for child
Gnashing white fangs, dripping and slick
Eager to pierce throats, break necks with a "click"
Sleek body, tense, muscles all rippled
It hunts to maim, lives to make crippled
Black, hollow eyes, fixed on it's prey
Slowly stalking souls, scared of the day
Ready to pounce, tear to bloody shreds
It's only your feelings, it's all in your head
Evil, it's knowing, all that is done
It hasn't forgotten, nor forgiven, anyone
Claw laden paws, scratching the dust
Moving ever closer, to quench it's bloodlust
Innocent bodies, lay by the wayside
Victims of own hand, Black Dog Suicide
No one way to kill it, to extinguish it's life
See Doctors and Psychs, now put down that knife!
Medicine and therapy, are all good tools
Don't eat the whole bottle and die like a fool!
Friends and family, people you trust
Reach out to someone, reach out you must!
Your head is your enemy, a mind filled with fog
Stop this shit now and kill the Black Dog!
K.Andrew. 11/10/09
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