~Mild Depression~
It might not seem that serious.
But once your figure it out.
It is to much to handle.
Your life falls.
You start to cut.
Then you relieze you fail.
You fail at everything.
You can't think of a reason to live.
You can't think of anything,
but killing yourself.
You try to put the knife down.
But it is way to hard.
Once your addicted.
You can't stop.
Once you know that you are not loved.
You can't stop.
Once you know you are sad and lonely.
You know you have no friends.
You try to think you do.
No one knows how you feel.
And yet still people make fun of you.
No one knows.
The popular kids still torture you everyday,
with the jacket you are wearing
They just don't know.
About the deep cuts in your arms.
Even your 'friends' don't know.
No one knows.
No one, but you.
As you try to fight your battle with depression.
It all fails.
Just like me failing at life.
People figure it out.
They start to freak.
They tell me lies.
They know I try to kill myself.
But they don't know me.
They think they do.
But they don't know me.
They don't know about the depression I live through everyday.
With people teasing you.
They don't know.
My cuts have healed.
But I am still addicted.
But I am restraining myself.
As the depression is still here.
It's still near.
I act okay.
But deep down....
I am not me. Depression is taking over.
And now I am someone people think they know.
They think I am someone they can tease and it won't hurt me.
But it does hurt.
It hurts on my wrist.
And on my inside.
It hurts my thoughts.
And it effects me.
My name is Depression.
And I am not leaving.
For I am not a person.
But a feeling, a scar.
A thing that hurts the person that I am inside.
A thing that hurts everyone.
A thing that looks small.
But can't hurt you greatly.
My name is Depression.
And I am someone no one knows.
wow... how good is this poem? I found it on emoboy_227's journal, I'm not sure if that's spelt right, or even if he wrote it, but I think it's really good.
It might not seem that serious.
But once your figure it out.
It is to much to handle.
Your life falls.
You start to cut.
Then you relieze you fail.
You fail at everything.
You can't think of a reason to live.
You can't think of anything,
but killing yourself.
You try to put the knife down.
But it is way to hard.
Once your addicted.
You can't stop.
Once you know that you are not loved.
You can't stop.
Once you know you are sad and lonely.
You know you have no friends.
You try to think you do.
No one knows how you feel.
And yet still people make fun of you.
No one knows.
The popular kids still torture you everyday,
with the jacket you are wearing
They just don't know.
About the deep cuts in your arms.
Even your 'friends' don't know.
No one knows.
No one, but you.
As you try to fight your battle with depression.
It all fails.
Just like me failing at life.
People figure it out.
They start to freak.
They tell me lies.
They know I try to kill myself.
But they don't know me.
They think they do.
But they don't know me.
They don't know about the depression I live through everyday.
With people teasing you.
They don't know.
My cuts have healed.
But I am still addicted.
But I am restraining myself.
As the depression is still here.
It's still near.
I act okay.
But deep down....
I am not me. Depression is taking over.
And now I am someone people think they know.
They think I am someone they can tease and it won't hurt me.
But it does hurt.
It hurts on my wrist.
And on my inside.
It hurts my thoughts.
And it effects me.
My name is Depression.
And I am not leaving.
For I am not a person.
But a feeling, a scar.
A thing that hurts the person that I am inside.
A thing that hurts everyone.
A thing that looks small.
But can't hurt you greatly.
My name is Depression.
And I am someone no one knows.
wow... how good is this poem? I found it on emoboy_227's journal, I'm not sure if that's spelt right, or even if he wrote it, but I think it's really good.
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