Tears,
roll down my cheeks,
in rivers
and oceans.
Why do you cry?
I cry for myself,
and for her,
and for him,
and for them.
I cry for the people,
both alive and dead.
I cry for myself,
who wants to be dead.
I cry for her,
the one that left me because
I was too dead.
YOU ARE READING
In The Mind of Depression
PoetryA "book" full of poems, from a depressed child. These poems are just sincere words and do not (and will not) always make sense, so I antecedently apologize.
