Fear and dread
have settled like two large stones
into the pit of my stomach,
depression diving sudden and deep
into my gut.
My mind is occupied
with thoughts of impossible
lifesaving attempts.
I’m unable to focus.
Tears press against my eyes
wanting to be released,
my composure is thread bare.
I want to live without
such deep desperation or
just to fucking die.
I feel such a sadness
like I’ve never known,
like others have suffered,
some in shock, some like me
a slowly turning poisoned
pair of pits, burning
stones within my body,
Making me the saddest
of men, of fathers or mothers,
some sons or daughters
feeling helpless and worthless
unable to save the things we love
the most. Such agony
is the human condition.
***
Look both ways on good days and bad.
Mind the gaps of the bad on good days,
and good on the bad.
Our Literary Journey 
This one hurts, but you’ve wrung beauty from the pain. Your plight is one of the dark sides of the human condition; your poem is one of the bright sides.
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Thanks, Marilyn.
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I “liked” this one, but LIKE is SOOOO not the correct emotion. Wish I couldn’t realate so viscerally.
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Thank you, Turk.
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That was gut wrenching, and yes, very human.
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Indeed. Happy New Year’s Eve, Joey.
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Fear and dread can be strong
a great arsenal of depression
they can make us feel lonely,
hopeless in a big desperation
anybody can feel it at times
to some people it is common
truth is, there’s no exception
when you’re in fear and dread
remember you are not alone
that a lot of people love you
will fight for your happiness
that will help with frustration.
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