Under The Surface

There are days everything seems to pile up,
Stress bends my mind and threatens breaking points,
The music player refuses to play anything up-beat,
And foul emotions bombard my heart full force;
Streaming thoughts drag me down into a funk,
Such a dark place so cold, empty, and familiar,
Echoing voices whisper deep in the gloom,
Haunting and taunting me from the vast space;
Past transgressions resurface in their chitterings,
Guilt frolics with shame dancing deep in my gut;
A depression so deep lies so close to the surface.

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