The battle is real
It's like playing battle ship
Except you never win
Your brain can never rest
Never ending
You never want to breathe or live
don't even want to dream
Is the way it makes you feel
The battle is real
The game of battle ship
you go want to go up
but it drags you down
Back to the corner
The cry spells
Wanting to
Needing to
Release the pressure
One slit, puts you at ease
Second slit, you begin to dream
This is the way it makes you feel
Hopeless
No one ever listens to the screams that come from the inside
wanting to be heard.
But how can you be heard, if you cannot speak?
The battle of depression is real
if you like playing battle ship.
Except no one will win.
Your brain won't rest
Never ending
I never want to breathe or live
Nor dream.
This is what I feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem