Depression  stories

8bit_kasCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
Stand to depression


Who am I to be the representation of expression to the unexpressed,

a liquefied colourful presentation filling the outlines of all the depressed.

Manifested to be what the world would label an outcast.

A fulfilment of that empty void of a heart, commonly known for not being built to last.

A trumpet blaring the truths of what self indulgence could bring many hurts to a soul,

the voice of the voiceless, speaking out for us all.

Being trampled down upon by the world's footprints of self doubt,

telling what I can't and fail to do, while I'm trying to figure all these things out.

And I would cast out my own two ears, just to hear empty silence when this world tries to speak.

A world so cold constantly trying to force me to reach my peak.

Surely now I would have learnt from my past mistakes and all my missteps,

surely no I could sense trouble five days away and be ready with all my preps.

But as I say again, I would be the voice to the depressed,

a loud voice to those gone silent, with no freedom to be expressed.

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