My Melancholy Poem by Boston Kelley

No other feeling is as crushing as
the most negative emotions.
Compete with me, if you will, and see
if you can find anything worse than
deep sadness itself.
It has such a grip on me; in my bones,
I can feel its immense power.
Like a man who has lost his family and
feels unable to go on, fear and anxiety
impede me from moving forward.
Moving forward must I do, but why must
I go so slow?
This melancholy is almost unbearable; every
remedy known to man could not cure me.
Like a boat whose hull is punctured and filling
with water, I sink into the ocean, yet it happens
so slow as if this torturous melancholy wants
me to slowly experience my pain.
I look at the rising water and pray for it to be done,
but moves at a snail's pace to torment me.
Try as you might and find something to ease my
pain, or console me in any way, the only thing
to cease this negativity is to face what I am fearing.