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The old black dog at the gate
The old black dog at the gate
~
Depression I have seen it
I have heard its call in the night
Heard it in the lonely hours
Known its devastation
How it takes what’s best of me
And tears it apart with ease
~
I cannot escape it anymore
More learn to live with it
I’ve looked at historical figures
Seen that I am not alone
That others have suffered as me
And survived to live a good life
~
I know that good friends and family
That love offers strength
In luck I may rely upon this
But only if I chose to call upon it
I must remember to do that
~
The one image which haunts
Is of an old black dog
Snarling with razor fangs
Biting at the gate I keep it behind
I’d like to kill it dead
To live without it
But some things remain as they are
I realise this
poem
by
Matthew Holloway
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