By Punam JR
Preface:
A lot of times, people battling depression want to be better but feel stuck in a bottomless pit out of which they see no way out. This poem attempts to express the pain of depression and the trap that keeps the person stuck.
In that pit, I see a face
Benign, sorted, calm, all grace.
Beckoning to me, calling out my name...
But I don't recognise, I tried in vain.
I am like the walking wounded
Tired eyes that haven't slept.
I am like the wingless bird
Her screeches no one had heard.
A fallen angel had once confessed:
Sometimes, angels need saving too.
Why, oh why, could you not see my sadness?
I might an angel be! And yet...
I am the walking wounded.
By a deep dark void I am surrounded.
Dare not come near me, O love!
For consumed in it, you shall get.
It's not a haven where thou should dwell
And not a home to which one may return.
In my chaos, as I seek some calm,
I need you to forget me... and yes, move on.
My world is no more a forest green
I see everything has lost its sheen.
I am the walking wounded, O love!
As I walk, blood will be shed.
My wounded heart dare not love again.
Yes, the past is past — bygones be bygones.
A heart once burnt cannot be whole again,
For the embers never die down — they keep rising.
I am the walking wounded — I do not want to be.
How do I detach it from this identity?
You words really moved me, Poonam! Your poem feels like an embrace for anyone carrying invisible struggles. The way you captured the quiet strength it takes to keep going, even when weighed down by unseen scars, truly resonated with me.
Anyone dealing with depression and reading this will feel understood, less alone, and comforted—as if someone finally spoke the things we’re often too guarded to admit out loud.