Depression

A camisado

A shadow

Like an assassin at night

A voiceless voice that attacks your conscience with insecurities and fright.

Mood swings become the perfect game of tug-of-war for emotions,

Happiness becomes a destination, driving on the streets of hopeless.

Doctors ask, "Blue pill or red pill."

Both pills will lead you towards the matrix,

Except your not Neo, and blue make you feel mellow.

These capsules kill you, so you won't kill yourself.

The bluepill, packed with numbing chemicals of fancy names,

only to hide the true feelings of your pain.

The red pill, packed with glucose to give you life, allowing everything you think to be alright.

 

So, Blue pill or red pill?

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world

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If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741