Beaten Down

A man being beaten down.

By evils waves that make no sound.

He was drifting.

He his last hope he did cling.

He was drowning.

He was sinking.

He then let go.

He was going to do what they said to.

He had a task.

He put up a mask.

Then as he was going to obey.

A memory cut through like a sun ray.

He saw who he was before.

He stopped the knife he had fell to the floor.

He went back to where he was.

But this time he had a cause.

It is easy to give in.

Some do it before they began.

It is hard to stand up.

Sometimes you even breakup.

It is easy to drift.

It is hard to swim with a rift.

But always remember who you are.

For who you are can never be changed no matter how deep the scar.


This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741