My Struggle

I walk alone, my head hanging down;

And hang in shame it does.

The words spoken crush

My already shattered soul.

 

They get power and strength

From my previeled weakness;

It's what keeps them strong;

It's what makes me weak.

 

Their violence gives me silence;

It makes them proud,

The silence I protrude

Speaks louder than any scream.

 

They draw a crowd, with the fun 

They make of me;

The crowd goes loud;

Striving from the bad.

 

It will give them a high;

I am their drug.

They make me low;

They are my weakness.

 

 

 

Comments

Need to talk?

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