The Journey

A mental health poem

No man is an island, or so they say

But the shore keeps moving further away

Where the sun once shone, there are now dark clouds

The fog has fallen, like a shroud

The ashes have spread across the sky

If I ever find God I'll ask him, why?

His work is mysterious, or so they say

Believe what you want, I'll believe what I may

It gets lonely here, on this barren grey rock

Even the voices in my head only seem to mock

I crawl into the dirt to hide my shame

No one understands, no one knows the pain

Yet there are others here on this foreign land

To share their burden, to understand

And now flowers grow, two big one small

And a rose grows too, fairest of them all

They offer their colour and I drink it in

They wash me clean, forgive my sin

Am I a disappointment? Perhaps only to myself

It can be difficult to tell, the curse of mental health

I start to swim, the shore draws near

I leave behind my guilt, I leave behind my fear

The rock is still behind me, perhaps it's not so far

But then objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are

There are many roads yet to walk, and people yet to meet

The journey isn't over, isn't yet complete

Those dark clouds still threaten, the rain may yet come

But even the darkest cloud must soon give way to sun