The experience we call life

I’ll never understand this experience we call life,
Born corrupted it’s not right!
A clock on my mortality
Why must this be true?
I didn’t ask to be born
Who can I sue?
I’ve seen everything from murder to rape
Mentally stable? No way in this place?
See a counselor for my depression?
They say you learn the hard way
Where is my lesson?
My childhood a blink
Death is soon
I cry every night when I stare at the moon
Wondering why I was ever born
Inside of me broken
My soul is torn
They want to put me on psych meds
They say that I am not right inside of my head
But who are you to judge who I am
Because I handle tragedy worse than other men?
Leave me alone I didn’t ask to breathe
This depression really has a hold on me.

One Comment Add yours

  1. an irrelevant girl says:

    This is an expressive poem, and I am sorry to read about your experience. Sending love ❤


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