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How I'd Make Love To Your Soul.
ALK (4/6/87 / Bath)

How I'd Make Love To Your Soul.

Poem By tanvi jain

Depression is raging.
In the mist of its anger.
It eats my happiness.
Fasting on my sadness.

Depression has its hold on me.
Throwing me into despair.
Making me more and more insane
As my mind it drains.

Depression'll take me all the more
It dosent care so long as it has its hit.
It hates me every single bit.

Every day it kills me a bit more.
It wont stop till its had its frill
It wont stop till its got me dead.

User Rating: 4,5 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 1

Comments (1)

How depressing. More typos - 'It doesn't care...' but you should. Depression seems to be on your mind. It's on mine too. Both from a personal standpoint; having experienceed it, and reading about it recently. I just finished Bill Styron's book 'Darkness Visable.' In it he frankly discusses his battle with it that required hospitalization and various medications until the right mix was found. I'm in the middle of Sandra M. Gilbert's collection of her poems in 'ghost volcano.' There she diplays what she wrote to help deal with the unexpected death of her husband. There is no way I would have had the strength to pick up either of these books, let alone read them, when I was in the middle. Regardless of your final line, for most there is a begining, a very tough middle that seems never ending, and if you can last it out, an end. I realize poems aren't always opinion; somestime just expression or a cry. Yours sounds genuine. Tom


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