Reflections (Poetry)

it's called depression.

when you're laid in the dark,
in the dead of the night,
do you ever get scared,
want to turn on the light?
but you somehow you can't,
it seems to be broken,
the thing that you want
will never be spoken.
that's how I feel
almost everyday,
not able to cope,
or find another way.
it's hard, you see,
cause it's not my fault,
my heart and mind,
like a tightly sealed vault.
no one understands,
unless they've got it too,
you just piece yourself together,
and hope to make it through.
what am I talking about?
this strange obsession,
well this is what it is,
it's called depression.