Depression is like 10 thousand hands pulling you under, Each minute getting worse, As you go into the dark, The dark miserable place no one wants to see, Depression, It’s not a nice word, It’s not a nice situation, No matter how loud you scream,
The hands continue to pull you under,
By this point you can’t control it, You keep sinking, Like sinking sand, Slowly, Painfully, Yet, They pull you under quickly, No choice from there, Except a ladder, An extremely difficult ladder to climb, Are you going to climb it? Yes? Then good, No, Really? Then you’ll be there forever in the midst of black universe, No way out, But the ladder? It’s still there, Deteriorating as such, It will start to disappear, Slowly and painfully, Just like you did, From then? Yeah, No way out...