I am sinking,
so quickly,
in a bed,
of quicksand.
I struggle,
to get free.
This quicksand,
is my depression.
It has a tight grasp,
on my heart and soul,
and affects my everyday.
I am no longer in control.
The quicksand has taken over,
and won the battle.
Once again,
I have lost.
~*~ Jill ~*~
good flow and i liked the way it was written..i can relate to it good job
I love the way you organized this one to undulate in shape. It adds to it in a big way. scary poem though...