Treasure Island

Lilyann Monahan

(2-10-68 / Miami)

Depression


My eyes won't open,
my mouth won't move,
my head feels heavy,
when will this improve?
I've lost count of the pills,
I think it's thirteen,
the Doctor added a new one,
its benefits are unseen.
Give it more time,
they constantly say,
I'm sick just hearing it heard.
If they only felt like me for a minute,
they would find this all absurd.
My mother is angry,
that I don't feel well,
she has to clean alone.
then I feel guilt knock at my door,
it cuts me to the bone.
We all have something wrong with us,
I guess I just have to fight,
and hope a rainbow is coming my way,
and pray with all my might.

Submitted: Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Edited: Thursday, October 24, 2013
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  • Lee Schneider (11/1/2013 8:57:00 PM)

    I didn't apply to doctors until it was too late. I thank God, that I am what I am now. It may be not cured at all. I share, but there is nothing wrong in you. That is why I love Robert Burns's poem ''A man for a'that''. (Report) Reply

  • Lee Schneider (11/1/2013 8:42:00 PM)

    I share, in spite I didn't applied to doctors with consequences, that is not possible to cure. (Report) Reply

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