Mental Calamity

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 This poem is a bit of an experiment. It's a test of my ability to write out of shear force of will. Do enjoy the products of writers block and tell me what you think


My mind exists in a constant state of calamity,

It exists only to serve and feed my anxiety,

I feel crushed by the weight of mental gravity,

I am definitely losing my sanity.


My mind is a pit of despair,

Where consternation resides 

With depression his heir,

My demons ensnare me

With their evil glare,

This mental prison is quite rare 


Each day I lie

I say I’m okay,

To find the strength 

to make it through another day,

 But depression itself has a unique kind of sway,

And at the end of the day it always has a say.


The stress of it all has me bent at the knee,

Tired of calling,

No one here my plea,

There is nowhere to run

Nowhere to flea

The overwhelming truth is I will never be free


My mind is a prison

Ingeniously designed,

It bound up all 

And made me blind,

I regret my life

That contract I signed,

The bound me to depression

And made our fates intertwined.  


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