I don’t want your sympathy as I battle the old black dog
though I’m not sure if you’re aware that I wander through this fog

There are those who understand for shadows stalk them too
they know that dreaded feeling that strikes out of the blue

In my mind I’m never worthy; self-esteem is low
as the light within struggles, just a pathetically feeble glow

No, I can’t just snap out of it as the intolerant urge
It doesn’t have a switch, it is something I must purge

Darkness will settle over me I feel as empty as a tomb
I’m not even sad in this hollow womb

Externally I function, day to day I still get by
live on automatic pilot without the strength to fly

I live here in my solitude untouchable, alone
I seek those who understand who call the same place home

It is a small part of me, does not my life define
a glitch in my makeup, a brush stroke gone awry

Life is about choices; at least this is what I am told
I choose love and warmth not this overwhelming cold

I do not choose depression or invite the black dogs bite
as those who do not live with it seem to think I might

I have learned to control it, to keep it locked up in its cage
though sometimes it defies me and engulfs me in its haze

It is difficult to describe it to one who has not ventured there
think of hollow, empty, numbness mixed in with despair

I do not wallow in it, regardless of what you think
inside it’s a constant struggle to pull back from the brink

If you see somebody struggling, please be tolerant and kind
or at least do not judge them harshly, offer well-meant advice

Remember you too have afflictions, imperfections of your own
rather than judge another it’s best to just leave them alone

Trish Johnston 18th July 2015