Poem about Depression
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I havn't named it so I spose u can name it for yaself
She sits in a room, all by herself
She sits on a chair, she stares at the shelf.
On the shelf there's a picture, of who she used to be,
Smiling and glowing, young and care free.
But now she's a shadow, there's nothing left inside,
Her soul has left her body, long ago she died.
The only thing inside her mind, one thought will never change,
And all she knows about herself is the picture and her name.
Inside the room, not a noise, nothing makes a sound,
Inside her mind its chaos filled, screams from all around.
Her knuckles white, gripping her knees, her eyes wide open in fear,
But never her sight is taken off, the picture she holds most dear.
Never does she move an inch, or say a single word.
Not for years, since before the dust, has her voice ever been heard.
Nothing left inside her heart, except a little dot,
Inside that dot her picture held tight, left on her shelf to rot.
Um yeah depression sucks, so does suicide, if anyone wants to email me about the poem or if u wanna talk, my email address is there.
Submitted by dyinstar_fadinlight@excite.com 6
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