BLACK DOG, GREY FOG

I want to curl up in a ball

And shut myself off from it all.
No motivation. Lethargy.
Without the will or energy
To haul my backside out of bed,
This negativity is fed
By thoughts that can debilitate,
Internally emaciate,
Slowly erode and chip away
At self esteem that’s in decay.
Depression is still stigmatised.
It’s sufferers are criticised,
Told to pull themselves together,
And discover ways to weather,
Cerebral hurricanes that rage.
Try as you might you can’t engage
Your brain to think in other ways,
To rid you of those black dog days.
To those who think you know the score,
Who haven’t suffered this before.
Your chances are it’s one in four
This ill will knock upon your door.
So they will get re-elected,
Governments have long neglected,
To budget, so there are aside
The funds in order to provide
Appropriate research and care
To us enduring this despair.
They turn a blind eye to our plight,
In full knowledge this dreaded blight
Will keep the drug companies sweet,
As G.P.s scribble out repeat
Prescriptions for the latest pill
That may control, not cure this ill.
We’re not ‘allowed’ to cause a ‘fuss’.
So really it is down to us
Until depression’s understood,
Accepted, recognised we should
Do what we can in order to
Extinguish thoughts that make us blue.

©23/10/14 MICHAEL DENNIS ‘The Black Cab Poet’

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