Bag of Bricks

Over my shoulder

Weighing me down

Breathing is harder

When your pressed to the ground.


Like a beast sitting on top of my breast

Growling and taunting me- how to find rest?

I take my pills to chase him away..

But my dark passenger follows me

He knows where I lay..


I drink down the tears that fall in my glass

He keeps record of my wrongs that fill up my past.

I try to take hope in the love I've been shown

But that dark passenger will not leave me alone.


Depression is his name, and he is loyal to me

Right with me, he walks, through my days endlessly.

So heavy... I try to just lift my head

Some days, I do well to get out of bed.

I count down the minutes that should be counted for joy

Shared with my family, my girl and my boy.


I can't look out too far, for it is too much to see

So I focus on the minutes, the next two or three

Then If I make it, I will set a new goal,

A small victory won, till I can regain some control


This is how it has been for so long, I hear the clock tick...

The alarm sounds, another day... to carry my bag of bricks.