I felt no hope
and couldn’t cope.
Would have to mope
until I could elope
from the pain
inside my brain.
Death and darkness were all I knew,
suicidal thoughts increased and grew.
Overdosing on pills was the only thing I knew to do,
constant suicidal thoughts yelling and shouting too.
My bottles of pills screaming at me,
time to end your misery and be free.
Take them all
they would call.
I never chose a gun, bridge or rope,
once numbed the pain with a little dope.
Can’t scrub death away with a bar of soap,
time to quit this mean melancholy mope.
My thoughts fight
throughout the night,
back and forth,
forth and back,
help and yelp,
yelp and help,
tug and ugh,
ugh, ugh, ugh.
Hurry ugly dark depressed Bipolar pain
take a trip back on the hypomanic train.
Travel away from this deadly mood hole
and journey back to my happy north pole.
I don’t want to leave and be gone forever from this earth.
I love my three beautiful children from which I gave birth.
My bumpy bipolar train ride of life
and strife
has traveled back again to survive
and thrive.
I worship and praise and thank my God above
for saving me and giving me a life full of love.
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/mope/
My Loud Whispers of Hope 