We met some years ago.
We'd greet each other from a distance, until we eventually became friends.
Depression was a good sister.
Understanding and cheering me on every time I decided to give up,
Depression was my rock.
When things didn't work out, Depression was always there.
Offering a shoulder to cry on and wiping my tears.
Every time I decided to try again, Depression would offer her meaningful input.
'Why try again when you're just going to fail, again'.
And I always listened to her.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem