Good Days and Bad Days

Most days
He coped.
It was hard,
But he coped.
He counted the hours
As they passed,
Interminably.
Each felt longer
Than the last.
Each a punishment.
Each a farce.
Some days
He could not cope.
On those days,
Time threatened
To engulf him,
Sirens called him
Onto railways,
Bridges and tall buildings
Promised quick release.
He hurt so much.
He longed for peace.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in depression, Emotions, Mental Health and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

I'd love to hear your thoughts...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s