There is a veil over my eyes,
One thick, and made of fog,
Made of years of sighs,
And risen from a malodorous bog,


Reach out towards it I might,
But I shall sink into it,
Floundering and nothing but gray in sight,
Until I scramble out, and on the ground sit,


Staring into that curtain,
I feel it difficult to breathe, 
For it is evil and uncertain,
But to not know, makes me seethe,


I want to remember my history,
But, through the pain and sorrow, it is lost to me.

This poem is about: 
My family
My community


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

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