deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Gray

I do not believe
They chose their fate
A choice means it's simple
A yes or no to a question
To the average person
It might seem obvious
Living is better than death
But to some it is not that simple
A thought is planted in their head
Like a seed in the dirt
The times were dark
And there was no hope
Everything was falling apart
And crashing down around them
But they held out
Like a half intrigued audience
Wanting to know what happened next
They didn't get too invested
Knowing if it got worse
They could always jump ship
But they ended up surviving to the end
And made it out of the storm
But the thought was there
Even if they didn't want it anymore
They couldn't escape
It followed them day after day
Closing in
The seed that was planted
Such a long time ago
Began to fester and grow
A tangled mess
Of thorns and weeds
Wrapping around their minds
And hearts
Until one day they couldn't breathe
It took great strength to stand
Energy to smile and laugh
It was easier to give in
Maybe they drank too much
Or the vice became a grip
Tightening around them
With no escape
A noose around the neck
Maybe it was a bell jar
Covering their heads
And no matter how much they screamed
No one heard them cry out
And so like sailors
Who rather drown
Than go against the waves
They gave in
And let themselves sink
Maybe it was a choice
But choices over simplify
The torture and pain
They must've felt
When sitting in the gray
How it haunted them
Following them close
Casting a dark shadow
Over all happiness and success
No matter how much money you have
You cannot cure the depressed
Some of us can outrun it
Some of us fight every day
Some of us can never get away
But if it was a choice
I do believe
They would choose to stay