Monday, September 6, 2010

I Hurt



It is the sadness
Stagnant, distant and singular
Great works are possible
Yet in this state not probable
The supple brain accepts the vile chemistry
All hell breaks loose.
What can be done?
What measure will fix what is broken?
Guessing games
Beakers of chemicals
Completely unknown by its user
Administered by the curious
It could work or it could be disastrous.
The delicate balance sways
The cycle begins again for the umpteenth time
Sadness its constant companion.

4 comments:

Jim Swindle said...

This is well-written.

I pray that your depression will lift. I understand, having been down that path. On my blog, if you look up depression, you'll find some of the things that helped me.

Everyday Goddess said...

wishing you peace. keep on blogging!

Kristen Haskell said...

This poem is written for many people that I know going through a hard time and trying to fix it using anti-depressants. It really had more to do with the administering of chemicals to treat depression. "I Hurt" is the title and was meant to be read from the reader's perspective more then from the authors. I was trying something new realizing now that everyone thinks it is really about me. I will admit, however, that on some days it probably is.

Lena said...

We're all dependent or one thing or another in life and the readiness of chemical help is both a curse and a blessing. I enjoyed this piece. Covered the pro's, con's and how it affects us.