Real Depression; A Cold Reality Poem by Christopher Cox

Am I dead or alive?
No one ever gets my vibe
For without hope and love
I wish I could go above

Happiness, love, and peace
I wish I could have just one piece
For in this dark
I wait for just one spark of the above

Truth is what tells of me
For all around to see
Truth of my wrong
Because I just can’t get along

I wish others would understand my feelings
but i guess they are just that unappealing
Evil becomes of me
and I wish to start upheaval

Death is how I feel
How would others ever find that to appeal
In this state of dark and cold
I usually get scolded

Depression is a confusing term
It is definitely not as susceptible as a germ
The term of depression is like the squirm of a worm
which is never held firm

Hope is either gone or far in sight
It never gives up without a fight
After some time
It becomes another annoying chime

You wish for it to go away
For it will never pay
Medication is what your mind insists
if this painful feeling continues to persist