You wouldn’t want this
To be depressed and nevermore
To say the least filled only a drop of
What is called
Happy
You prefer jokes and giggles
Bright colors
And music that
Everyone else listens to
And likes as well
You love love
But hate and don’t understand the
depressed
you always think to the morbid black clouds
hanging near where you sit, "Why can’t they just be
happy?
Why do they
choose
to keep doing this to themselves?
Why can’t the druggies turn to people or counselors?
Or the cutters
Just stop
Or the anorexics
just stop
saying they’re fat and eat?
Or the bulimics
just keep it in?
Or the alcoholics just stop,
and think of their family first?
Or the hores
just stop
having so much sex?
or what if they just stopped choosing
to be depressed in general and be
happy?"
You think "It’s not that hard, I choose to be happy, and life is great because
I choose to be."
I have an answer for your questions.
I don’t choose to be depressed
Sure my life seems fine on the outside
And if I truly wanted to make this stop I could
get help
but I cant control being depressed, selfish, or at least some of the things you think I am.
No I’m not happy
But you have to respect that not being happy-
the pain-
makes me
deep inside...
happy
because im just that selfish