DARK DAYS

On my own again.
Divorced at thirty seven.
Never realised I was slipping
into a deep depression.
Children to care for.
Babies on my knee.
Black clouds hover above me.
The sun I cannot see.
The refection in the mirror
is one that I abhor.
The hair that once was long,
now lies upon the floor.
Its four o'clock in the morning,
I cannot get to sleep.
Its no good telling me
to count a hundred sheep.
Again I pick up the scissors,
but its my wrists I'd love to slash.
How can I feed the children
when I haven't got any cash?
I look into the mirror.
I cut it a little bit more.
Fine strands of my red hair
start falling to the floor.
I cry in desperation.
Confusion rules my brain.
Will my lips ever form a smile?
Will I ever be happy again?
I pull the covers close to me
as I climb into my bed.
Why is living so difficult?
And what demons have entered my head?

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