|Depression Calls . . .
. . . and tears well up. I try not to answer . . . ,
knowing I'll spiral down again . . .
Here it comes . . . , can't help it . . .
Gotta' move . . . , gotta' get UP. . . !
But it won't let go. Panting against tears . . . ,
hoping it won't go any lower; and then . . .
I remember helping my friend when she
couldn't help herself at the very bottom.
Seems like giving in is easier.
I know better . . . , but sigh in relief,
tears still rolling down, then
I think of you reading this . . .
|Can you possibly see it, the panting . . . ,|
the catching of breath against it?
If you understand, I do . . . , and . . .
if not, I can't help you . . . ,
but there is One Who can, Who
brought me up from even further down,
before, than I can tell you . . . , without . . .
Be glad you don't know,
because I prayed for you while
there, not knowing I'd rise . . .
to help anyone who could be helped,
against the scourge . . .
depression hauling you down . . .
for reasons I can't tell you . . .