No one believes I am depressed.Depression becomes a privilege.People are eager to make judgments and suggestions—They never really know what I am going through.

Depression becomes a privilege.To others I have a perfect life—They never really know what I am going through.I don’t know how to end this feeling.

To others I have a perfect life.No one hears my silent struggling.I don’t know where to end this feeling—It’s a part of who am I.

No one hears my silent struggling—People think I am trying to find excuses.It’s a part of who am I.No one believes I am depressed.