As the days shortens and the nights lengthens to midwinter it feels like time is running out. Like soon there be no time left to do anything. The awareness of the coming turning does nothing to alleviate this feeling. Add to that a ton of course work left, a child’s birthday to celebrate and only ten days left to Christmas Eve, and the feeling goes from uneasy to alarming. There really is very little time to get everything left to do done.
Time is running out This odd year is about to end Darkness flowing in
Shadow people before my eyes Drifting aimlessly through their lives Foggy as rainy crying skies Shadow people before my eyes Fading as sorrow’s darkness rise Remembering just negatives Shadow people before my eyes Drifting aimlessly through their lives
Nobody holds then as they cry No one a kind helping hand gives Sorrow without friends multiply Nobody holds then as they cry Nobody these souls fortify They are dark depressions captives Nobody holds then as they cry No one a kind helping hand gives
Shadow people before my eyes What can get then to see bright life Fading away ‘til their souls dies Shadow people before my eyes Unable to see the blue skies Lost without finding hope inside Shadow people before my eyes What can get then to see bright life
I’m half a month early, but this one is written for Mental Health Awareness Month. A way to show that there are a lot of people out there who suffer from depression, and do so thinking and feeling they are all alone. Because that is part of how depression works, isolating us from the rest of the world.
But you are not alone! There is help to get!
For many there are loved ones that would like nothing better than to give help, support and love. And if you don’t have loved ones who care, there is support and help to get, from others who have suffered as you do and from professionals. But you have to reach out or open up just a little bit for them to know you need help. And that I know from personal experience is not always an easy thing.
Writing a triple triolet as in Trapped, Imprisoned In Her Own Mind, was so fun and challenging enough that I just had to do it again. Because that way it feels like you get a chance to make the triolet go somewhere and not just be a repetitive poem stuck in one place.
Days she’s a translucent idea Displaying the required galleria Stuck in this confined woman form Laced tight in society’s norms As the fire turns to embers The quiet girl no one remembers Cosy up in the inglenook To write forbidden poems in her book
Written for tonight’s dVerse prompt Quadrille #118: In the Inglenook. A lovely word, I seldom get to use. And a thing I always wish my house would have.
Lately my childhood, with books and pets as only friends, have been shoving up in my writing – What did you think would happen to a child left on my doorstep?. So today, thinking both about all the writers (and there are many) who inspires me, and my relationship with order (NOUN not verb), especially poetic order in form of feet’s and meters. I got it into my head to write using the Ballad metre.
The world according to RedCat 
