A Pressing Beast

Hands shaking

Heart beating

Mind whirling

Why must I worry so?

I simply can’t

    It isn’t even possible

My mind is stopping me

    A deep black hole

A pessimistic beast

There is no use

I’ll never do it

The beast takes it away,

    Seizes the confidence

It’s so simple!

I shouldn’t worry,

But I can’t help it

    When the it presses

    its fingers into me

This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

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