That Old Black Dog's Here (Poetry)

I thought he had gone
taken himself off
better things to do
than make me feel rough
buried gloomy stuff

But the cur is back
snarling at the door
and I’ve bones to pick
mouldy as before
resurrection’s law

Black’s the favoured shade
grieving dulls my brain
he barks day and night
every song the same
jarring fierce with pain

Like I’m a dumb sheep
he rounds up stray doubts
nips my clueless heels
somewhere reason shouts
and delusion melts

Now he’s here again
big and growling mean
hungry as a wolf
prowling childhood’s dream
my throat’s full of scream