I am too young to be this depressed.
What am I, 16, 17, 18?
What do I know?
What hardships have I seen?
My life is all but merry.
What has yet Not being provided to me?
They are doing more than they should for me.
If I am not happy. Then it is my fault completely?
Tell you why I am depressed?
I feel. I breathe. I think. I see.
I Have this darkness inside my head.
And there comes moments when it becomes hard to breathe.
I never tell you this?
Because you have enough on your plate,
Because I always feel like I am letting you down,
But you have never tried asking either, have you?
What you once said in an outburst long ago,
I have yet embraced in my heart,
Every night, I recite it to myself,
To keep myself from shinning out.
Yes, I have friends,
And so I have problems,
Miscommunication – misunderstanding,
Exists in my world too.
Yes, I am scared,
Scared of the society,
The same one,
Of whom where you have member seat.
I feel like a dreamer,
Who wants to be an artist or a psychologist,
And some of us wants to be doctors and bankers,
But we teach ourselves to be quite.
Yes, we love you,
Even with all our faults,
We just don’t know how to tell you,
Doesn’t mean we don’t.
The voices in our head,
We try to quiet,
Breathing in our rooms vacant,
We feel like dying.
To feel like not dying,
We reach out to suicide and self harm,
And cigarettes and alcohol and drugs,
To get to another day,
Because, in reality, we don’t want to die.
We dream big,
We want big,
We want ourselves to be big,
We want to share a big verse to this world.
We are depressed,
We May be young,
But, we are just as depressed as you.