Depression kills –

      anybody vulnerable enough to be hurt;

      anybody conscious of his imperfections;

      anybody who hid behind a fake ego.

And the very few who give importance to this issue,

     little by little shows such lack of motivation;

     loses the fight between society’s criticism;

     and makes another unfulfilled goal.

I once had a friend,

     disappointed and depressed, as she claims,

     with reason she wouldn’t tell anybody,

     frequent isolation; nothing could be done.

And my one, one regret

    was that I never pushed her,

    I never understood her,

    I never got to ask, “Why?”

Here I am, a sorrowful being

    Apart from my friend, a different world she lives.

    To not make the same mistake, is it possible?

    But I may never be finding out.