My feelings of happiness changes as the weather does.
My joy drifts into the air as smoke does.
The fire in me is coming to an end.
Nothing I have is solid nor does it stay.
All I have are my marks of mistakes, running down from my eyes with no end.
I feel alone and as this feeling builds, so does my walls as I apart myself from all.
This feeling of mine is my depression.
It is the expression of my errors, that I'll need to accept.
How cruel that our errors can damage ourselves so deeply.
How endless our suffering may seem.
Yet knowing that we can preserver with full will.
Knowing that one day we can say, I’m happy.
About the Creator
Sergio A.
I'm 24 and writing has became my form of therapy. I struggle speaking up or explaining in how I feel but writing it out is so much easier. I enjoy short poems and sonnets. Read away :)
📢 Raise Your Voice Thread: 04/25/2024
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