Gedicht, door mij geschreven op het dieptepunt van mijn depressie die 32 jaar duurde...
'Gloom so dark, yet born by chance,
A needed weight, a grim expanse,
To reach the dreams that slipped away,
Left to wither, lost in grey.
In thoughts that tore and broke your will,
Shaped with doubt, unsatisfied still,
Molded into what you see,
The self you think is truly thee—
So very small, yet meant to be?'
~ Zohra Boelhouwers ~
1993
'Gloom so dark, yet born by chance,
A needed weight, a grim expanse,
To reach the dreams that slipped away,
Left to wither, lost in grey.
In thoughts that tore and broke your will,
Shaped with doubt, unsatisfied still,
Molded into what you see,
The self you think is truly thee—
So very small, yet meant to be?'
~ Zohra Boelhouwers ~
1993
Gedicht, door mij geschreven op het dieptepunt van mijn depressie die 32 jaar duurde...
'Gloom so dark, yet born by chance,
A needed weight, a grim expanse,
To reach the dreams that slipped away,
Left to wither, lost in grey.
In thoughts that tore and broke your will,
Shaped with doubt, unsatisfied still,
Molded into what you see,
The self you think is truly thee—
So very small, yet meant to be?'
~ Zohra Boelhouwers ~
1993
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