There comes a time in life
When a fog rolls in
Youth makes you run away
Because the fog clings
But it always finds you
Like it’s tethered to you
But if you turn ’round
Walk like a pilgrimage
You always get through
And whilst it’s scary first
And it does cling on
It’s more of a caress
That wants to help heal
Turn, face, and walk through it
Fog always passes
And you will remain here
The Poetry of OCD 