When you talk of freedom, I wonder, is it the same for you and me?
Whilst I willingly share a verse, I am in fact locked within a curse that you may not easily see.
Because in my head, there are images of dread that, when observed, cause many to be unnerved, as they seem more painful than any words read.
Causing questions to be raised, but I am not fazed, as I will answer most clearly about subjects that affect others most dearly, as long as I am heard.
For most often, I have to soften the words best used to describe how I feel.
Sadly, there are those who don’t see it as real.
You see, a mental health affliction is not an addiction; it is something real, a curse you may feel, without religious diction.
It affects us all, at times, for it is real and knows no colour or creed, but it has a need to shout.
Can you hear it? Here it comes in rhyme.
It doesn’t care,
If you are black or white,
You’ll still have to face it all in a fight.
Irrespective of ethnicity or creeds, depression will take whatever it needs to drive you insane, impart what it will in your brain, deflate and then disown you.
We all hurt, and we all cry.
We all live, and we all die.
When it’s not about you and not about me,
We’ll all live together happily, and we will be free.