Depression kills –
anybody vulnerable enough to be hurt;
anybody conscious of his imperfections;
anybody who hid behind a fake ego.
And the very few who give importance to this issue,
little by little shows such lack of motivation;
loses the fight between society’s criticism;
and makes another unfulfilled goal.
I once had a friend,
disappointed and depressed, as she claims,
with reason she wouldn’t tell anybody,
frequent isolation; nothing could be done.
And my one, one regret
was that I never pushed her,
I never understood her,
I never got to ask, “Why?”
Here I am, a sorrowful being
Apart from my friend, a different world she lives.
To not make the same mistake, is it possible?
But I may never be finding out.