Depression
They tease me, ignore and often bore me
They don’t see what has instore for me
They talk to me like what they have said wont lore me
Into their trap of therapy
I’m just a statistic, a suicide count
They say the dashes across my wrists are cries for attention
Although they try to reach for prevention
The helpless blinds them as I forget to mention
I slit my wrists with a small amount of apprehension
I do, I seek and cry for help
For all I really need
Is someone who is there and not full of greed
Instead of having to watch myself bleed
Someone to do normal teen stuff with, like smoke some weed
Now I sit here begging and pleading
That just maybe some one person will read
This stupid poem to explain my head
But I still sit here stuck in my bed
Secretly wishing that I was dead
Planning the ways to end this life
Knowing I’ll never get a wife
Slitting my wrists with that dimensioning knife
And now im just trying to make some kind of strife
To societies norms, that just are not right
Depression effects more than you think
Even the happiest, have some kind of link
To this horrible sickness that I cannot sink
To the life I have lived
Now I have arrived
To the end of this poem
Showing I am deprived of a teen life
And I advise, if you know someone, get some help
For all we want is to be revived