Poems on Depression and the Struggle Within

Clara Hudson
Exploring the depths of human emotion, these poems delve into the complex and often hidden struggles with depression. They offer a poignant look at the pain and hope that intertwine within the silent battles of the mind.
7 min read
Table of contents
Mist of the Mind
Unseen Chains
Winter's Embrace
Voices Dimmed
Drowning Above Water
Ghosted Words
Shadow's Gown
Locked in Glass
Wilted Petals
Canvas of Sighs

Mist of the Mind

Grey clouds hang heavy, veiling light
Whispers in the mind, shrouded by night
A silent echo through the cold hall
Hope's faint glow, a distance too small


Caught in a web spun tight with fears
The spider of doubt, feeding on tears
Eyes searching sky for a break, a sign
For the warming touch of the sun's design


Each day dread wakes before the dawn
Robbing the youth from which life is drawn
A thief in the shadows, stealthy and vile
Leaving behind a tremulous smile


In this fog, my heart's beats unsteady
Heavy the crown, the one made of lead
A king in a realm of his own fragile state
Ruling an emptiness, cruel and innate


Yet whispers persist, though faint, they conspire
Sparks in the grey, hinting at fire
A breath, a fight, against the oppressive night
A push towards morning, towards light


Unseen Chains

With rusted links forged of despair
Invisible fetters, I'm keenly aware
Each thought, a weight, chained to my soul
Dragging me down, an unfillable hole


I march to the beat of an unheard drum
A rhythm of sorrow, perpetually glum
A soul encased in a chrysalis of dread
Dreams shriveled up, aspirations dead


I reach out for help, a hand to hold
But touch only the air, icy and cold
This jail of emotion with hidden keys
Confines me with silent, unspoken pleas


No marks on my flesh, but still I'm confined
To the ruthless prison built in my mind
A sentence of sadness, no date to end
Yearning for a message, a heart to mend


May a gentle smith come to forge anew
With a key shaped of love, to start life's due
To break away the unseen, cruel chains
And lead my spirit out of these pains


Winter's Embrace

The winter's embrace is stern and cruel,
A season of sorrow, devoid of fuel.
Trees stand naked, exposed in their plight,
Against the cold world, a pitiless sight.


My heart as the leaves, scattered and torn,
Upon life's harsh winds, brutally worn.
Crisp in its ache, brittle with pain,
Awaiting the touch of warmth's gentle rain.


The sun, distant, a forgetful friend,
Leaves me to shiver, alone to fend.
Darkness wraps close in comforting lies,
Whispering softly of restful goodbyes.


The night falls quickly, swallows the scene,
In the void, I'm lost, no glint to glean.
A whisper of light, a forgotten dream,
Within the winter's eternal regime.


Hoping the snow, pristine and stark,
Will blanket my woes, hush the dark.
Longing for spring, a thaw to come,
To melt the ice, depression's sum.


Voices Dimmed

Voices dimmed, now fade away
Silenced by the dark's steady sway
Their echoes just a memory past
In the theater of my mind, a cast


Where once a chorus, lush and clear,
Filled my soul, eased every fear,
The silence now, a haunting space,
Empty of the tune's embrace.


The laughter's light that once I knew
Is just a ghost, cold and untrue,
Grieving in the depths unseen,
Yearning for what could have been.


Shadows on the wall perform
Play scripts written in the storm
Of anguish, doubt, and deep regret,
Acting out scenes I long to forget.


Listen for the voices kind,
That one day I once more shall find.
In the quiet, a hopeful plea,
For the return of joy's lost symphony.


Drowning Above Water

I breathe, yet feel I drown,
Above the water, going down,
A tempest within, silent and deep,
A churning turmoil, no respite or sleep.


The world above moves with a rush,
While I am caught in the hush,
Of waves of sadness, rolling tides,
Where a heavy heart, submerged, abides.


Those looking in can't see the swell,
Of darkened waters, personal hell,
They sail on by, skies ever clear,
Blissfully aloof from the storm growing near.


Yet still I sink, in depths profound,
A silent scream, but without sound.
Struggling to surface, breathe air free,
Clinging to the hope of what could be.


In this ocean, your hand extends,
Breaking the cycle, making amends.
Lift me up, pull me through,
Help me find life anew.


Ghosted Words

Ghosted words in my mouth lay dead,
Their life and vigor long since fled.
Silent, they haunt the chambers drear,
Echoes of the living I used to revere.


A conversation with shadows I lead,
In the vacuum where the light does bleed.
Lamenting the sounds that once took flight,
Now mere phantoms in perpetual night.


I reached for joy, a slippery eel,
That wriggled away from my desperate keel.
Instead I caught sorrow, a lasting bane,
And with it I converse, tethered by chain.


Yearning for a voice that breaks the gloom,
To cast out the silence of this room,
To fill once more this emptied stage,
With a tale that turns a brighter page.


Might these ghosted words again find breath,
Emerging bold from the jaws of death.
With your help, their revival I see,
As you speak life back into me.


Shadow's Gown

Adorned in a gown woven by shadow,
Seams that stitch every secret sorrow.
A cloak that clings to the edges of soul,
A garment so heavy, it swallows me whole.


Within its folds, no light may glisten,
A world alight where stars keenly listen.
My echoes muffled, hidden from day,
In the fabric of night I am led astray.


In solitude's grip, no seamstress appears,
To tailor my fears, trim away the tears.
I am left with the threads of chilling regret,
A tapestry of pain, endlessly set.


The needle pricks, but the wound runs deeper,
Crafting hollow smiles, the joy a sleeper.
Stitches in time may yet come to mend,
But for now, I wear the pain without end.


A day might dawn when the gown falls away,
Revealing the colors hidden in grey.
Till then, in the shadow's tender embrace,
I'll search for the threads of a softer grace.


Locked in Glass

Trapped inside a globe of glass,
Watching vibrant seasons pass,
Static in a shrouded sphere,
I tap the walls, but no one’s near.


The world outside continues on,
From the bright hush of dawn,
To the sweeping dusk’s arrival,
Yet I'm stuck in glass, a lived reprisal.


Rainbow bubbles rise and fall,
Against the dome, they softly call.
A kaleidoscope outside my reach,
Teasing with their silent speech.


Oh, for a crack, a break, a shatter,
To make my somber fetters scatter.
To feel life's chaos, sweet and rife,
Rather than this still, encapsulated life.


Time may come to throw a stone,
From within or tossed by one unknown.
Shattered glass underfoot will crunch,
As I step out from this fragile hunch.


Wilted Petals

The garden within has lost its bloom,
Where flowers wilt in needless gloom.
Petals fall, a withering rain,
Into the soil of pervasive pain.


The thorns remain, enduring, sharp,
Guarding the remnants of my heart.
A wall of anguish, deeply spied,
Where blossoms of old have dried.


My hands are soiled in attempts to tend,
To revive the life from this bitter end.
Yet the Miracle-Gro of the human touch,
Seems beyond reach, not asking much.


I whisper to the stems, coaxing life,
Hoping to cut through hurt like a knife.
Yet the silence is a stubborn foe,
Leaving the garden none but woe.


Seasons cycle, circle 'round,
Bringing change without a sound.
May the spring in its tender might,
Restore the garden, bring back light.


Canvas of Sighs

My emotions, a canvas stark and bare,
Absorbing the colors of despair.
Dull hues bleed into its warp and weft,
A portrait of the insidious theft.


Where once was painted a sunrise bright,
Now only remnants of fleeing light.
The brushstrokes heavy with sorrow's weigh,
Erasing the work of a joyous day.


Shades of night blend into a corner crease,
Tainting the cloth with their dark release.
Each thread soaking the pigment of dread,
Casting shadows on the hope once spread.


The artist’s hand trembles, unsure,
Struggling to recall the allure.
Of once vibrant tones, now turned dim,
The outlook grim, the vigor slim.


Yet patiently, I'll set my easel anew,
Hoping for a hue of a different view.
With tender care, I'll paint over sighs,
Waiting for a dawn in the canvas skies.


PUBLISHED: Feb 22, 2024
Written By
Clara Hudson
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