The night has come, the day is arising. Depression has me—nothing but sadness awaits me— the morning light is so bright—I deserve to be touched—depression has me. My essence just wants to be free. Depression, you see, is the result of my essence not being free. My essence is fuming, raging, crying, and angry. I deserve to be touched. Depression is pounding by like a sleepy willow tree, swinging its long branches. My body aches; pain fills me. I am defeated. I just want to sleep. Depression is pounding by like a willow tree swinging its long branches. But they can’t touch me. I’m sad. My essence wants to be free, and there’s no one there for me. Oh, I’m depressed because my essence can’t be free.
