The Face of Depression

What on earth is a woman to do

When every day she feels so blue?

Never wants to get out of bed

Just pulls the covers over her head.

But every day she makes a choice

Refusing to give her pain a voice.

She does her duty as mother and wife

All the while feeling so full of strife.

Her son is her joy, her heaven on earth

The biggest proof she has of her worth.

Without him life would be too hard

Like being dealt a really bad card.

Her husband, he no longer knows her

She might as well be just a chauffeur.

They no longer have a marriage bed

She can't - her body just feels like lead.

Where does it all lead

To her god she does plead?

But no answer is given

She'll just keep on livin'

And hope that maybe tomorrow

She won't be so full of sorrow.

She holds onto that hope

To try and stave off the mope

As long as she thinks that maybe tomorrow . . .