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Image for the poem My Depression

My Depression

It's difficult to predict  
Harder than the weather I suppose
An apt analogy though  
Forcing a change of clothes  
 
A subtle fog rolls in  
Barely perceivable mist  
Blanketing the landscape  
Easily missed  
 
That's the annoying part  
Before you know it, the fog is dense  
But you're still wearing shorts  
A sunny day becomes one of defense  
 
Now you scramble to decide  
The proper attire for the change  
Black seems so appropriate  
But you avoid appearing strange  
 
It's okay to feel it inside  
But don't bring others down  
Smooth out angry lines  
Fake a smile, hide your frown  
 
Storm clouds gather  
You couldn't out run their pace  
Time to seek the shelter  
To wait out this morbid place  
 
But you don't belong anywhere  
And no where welcomes your shroud  
You didn't read the dress code  
You dare not read it aloud  
 
Sleep is what you crave  
Or to be left alone  
To wallow in self-pity  
Pick at an old, hollow bone  
 
Count your blessings some say  
All my journals have lists  
Time seems to be  
The only thing that assists  
 
Every storm passes  
At its own rate  
It's the unpredictability  
Of when they come, that I hate
Written by Mastersensation (Pent)
Published
Author's Note
By Pent
Aug 4th, 2021

I am much more attuned to depression than I used to be. I felt it creeping in as I entered work today, so I wrote about it. Instead of days, it mostly only lasts hours now.
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