The Mask I Wear

This mask that I wear, is cracked and it’s broken,
The words that I think, are not the ones spoken.

The depression it hits, like a slap in the face,
I reach for my pills, my last saving grace.

After a few hours, they finally kick in,
The depression leaves, slowly within.

I start feeling better, but still not complete,
To rid of these thoughts, is no simple feat.

They stay in my head, all the day long,
Repeating over, like the chorus to a song.

12-07-20