The Beauty

A Poem by Joseph

A poem about personal struggles, how they feel and the reality of what goes on in our own minds.

The Beauty in sadness had been lost upon me. I have drowned in its magnificence all my life, and in the lonely desperation in between gulps for air I experienced brief moments of joy. They were quick glances, but I saw the beauty that had been lost in my struggle to keep from being drug down by the fierce and Herculean grip my depression and sorrow had on my soul. Existence is supposed to be a gift from the divine, but like a spoiled child I weep due to life I was given. I am not weak though, for I have broken free at times and saw sight of others, but they only watched as my struggle worsened. Some offered help only to push me further adrift when I accepted. It is hard to breathe, but I manage, the only true beautiful thing remaining is the hope I see in my reflection during the moments the constant waves of anguish.