Depression

I'm tired of being here,
all locked up in my head.
Every day I hear a whisper,
and I'm closer to being dead.

Something taps me on the shoulder,
something I can't fight.
When it talks in that low voice,
my eyes are shut so tight.

Once it gets to a cetain point,
and I'm still sitting on the ground,
it tells me to do things,
I'm trying to ignore the sound.

Its voice is harsh and filled with confidence,
and I can hear a hint of sorrow.
Even when it's telling me,
I won't live to see tomorrow.

I don't know what to say,
and I don't know what to do.
I'm still hearing it now,
and I'm still suffering too.

I can't tell what its weakness is,
but I know I hear some lust.
I just have to get through this,
and have no one to trust.

06/27/2004