Repetition.

Wrote this for a contest.

My world is dark, empty, gray
The same thing happens every day

The cycle repeats once more
And again I fall dead to the floor.

Dead in the mind, but not in the soul
I wait for the light in the endless dull.

The hell is over, right?
Because I died in the night.

Sobbing in sorrow, crying inside
Maybe I shouldn't have committed suicide

Because now my world is dark, empty, gray.
The same thing happens every day.

Reviews

[ANTO]

The depressed mind suffers death a thousand times and to all intents and purposes it may as well be truly physically dead - however - the dead mind cannot comprehend its own demise in the grand scheme of things and so the madness envelopes it.
This is a detailed study of that affliction and a testament to the indomitable creative spirit within.
Thank you for sharing Thayle.

[Matching Socks]

I really love the way you broke this down, grass is not greener on the other side.
Sometimes you've got to just stay on course and the clouds will break.

[willweb]

This was very dark and disturbing Thayle. Suicide is never the answer for as you state, "Because now my world is dark empty, gray. That world becomes dark, empty and gray for the one who loved you too. You have captured the feeling of loneliness well in this poem.

[Thayle L.]

I imagine there is a special hell for those who suicide. A grey, empty world, only exitable if you are optimistic. Thing is, optimism is hard in any type of hell. I believe there is a name for it. Limbo.