Depression is my name, or at least that’s what they call it. I never knew expressing yourself was a sin. The truth is they’ve read the good shit, I’ll never bring out the bad, like this piece for instance. Bad equals the shit about your fighting. The time when everyone was mad, pissed off at the world, and when you turned your backs on love. Yeah! And that isn’t depressing? Why don’t you tell me dad?….how it feels to be depressed. We all know you know, because you left. Couldn’t take it I guess, but the question is "What was there to take?" Everything was fine, then one day your gone, but I didn’t even cry…because I’m strong daddy, and the answer to your question is “NO! I’m not depressed……like you!”
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