Poems by Annabel Sheila

Until it affects someone we love,
We don't even know it's there.
It's really not our problem,
So why should we care.

The statistics are quite shocking,
One in four they say
Will suffer from depression
In their lives one day.

There's not much stigma anymore
For this serious mental flaw.
But no one knows where it will strike,
It's just the luck of the draw.

No one would choose to live with it,
And some don't even try.
I see my daughter suffering
And all she can do is cry.

Most people turn the other cheek,
They've been doing it for years.
But I must face the pain I see,
In my daughter's tears.

She's trapped inside the prison walls
That used to be her mind.
The woman that she used to be,
Has long been left behind.

There are times she's quite alert,
Her memory's still intact.
Then there are days when she disappears,
And we know it's not an act.

No longer able to care for herself,
We couldn't leave her alone.
Her safety had to be assured,
So we placed her in a home.

Good days are when we visit her,
And she calls us by our name.
She's grateful for the company,
And thankful that we came.

Most of the time it's difficult,
To see our Mom that way.
All we can do is love her now,
As we take life day by day.

She's beauty, style, poise and grace,
At least she appears to be.
But no one knows the girl who hides
Behind the face they see.

Her self-esteem is all but gone,
Of her ego there's barely a trace.
There's so much pain behind the mask
She wears upon her face.

Depression has controlled her life
With far too many tears.
Her smile is fake; she's good at it;
She's been doing it for years.

The cover is what attracts us
To the story within the book.
And she's afraid that without the ruse,
No one would bother to look.

A squeak on the stairs.
Could Santa be here?
Better pull my blankets
Up to my ears.

He comes down the chimney,
That's how he gets in.
Santa uses magic
To make himself thin.

I better keep still,
Can't make a peep.
He doesn't leave toys,
Unless you're asleep.

My door just opened.
Someone's by my bed.
It wasn't Santa after all,
'Cause Mom just kissed my head.

Taking a romantic ride today,
We sat upon the wagon.
Suddenly the horse lifted his tail
And we heard a roaring dragon!

The deafening sound hurt my ears
And the smell burned the hairs in my nose.
My girlfriend sat and glared at me.
Somehow my fault I suppose.

It was my idea to take the ride,
But how was I to know?
It really wasn't in my plans;
Didn't know the horse would blow.

The noise and the smell were bad enough,
As the wind blew quickly by.
But I think the very worst of it,
Was the brown stuff in my eye.

My girlfriend's face turned angry red.
So I figured I wouldn't dare
Advise her of the smelly pieces
Of horse stuff in her hair.

The horse finally stopped; my girl ran away,
Stubbornly lifting her chin.
I think that horse was enjoying himself,
Cause I'm sure I saw him grin.

A lesson learned for me today.
Although I must confess,
I laughed so hard I nearly cried
As I wiped away the mess.