Days like this

Some days it’s hard to climb the stairs.
Each step seems far too high,
My legs too weak
To carry me.

Some days it’s hard to finish a task.
I struggle to see a reason why
I should not put it off
Until tomorrow.
 
Some days it’s hard to keep worry at bay,
The anxious thoughts, 
The nervous tension,
Panic, guilt and shame. 
 
Some days it’s hard to stand up tall,
Pinned to the bed or couch
By a small voice of fear that says 
There is no point at all.
 
Some days it’s hard to climb the stairs,
And some days I bounce up them
Two at a time.