Not a Choice, But a Struggle

Not a Choice, But a Struggle
To claim this burden a mere whim,Is like saying a fractured limb
Can simply choose to mend whole.Depression’s grip, a heavy toll.
No switch to flip, no heart’s decree,A storm within, obscuring the sea.
Chemical tides that pull one down,A muted world, with scarce a sound.
Not a chosen path, but a fight to climb,Each day a battle against the creeping grime.
For sunshine seems eternally far,And the weight of sorrow, a relentless scar.
So let empathy guide every tongue,This illness whispers, a silent, choked plea.
For healing hands and a listening ear,To mend the spirit, and cast out fear.