Such a desolate feeling to have no one of our own,
In whom we can confide, all doubts and fears unknown.
Someone to hold our hands in times of need and console,
Reassure our faith in self and to cajole.
Make us some coffee, sit with us, listen handing out tissue,
Lives could be saved from mind games fought, not a simple issue.
Depression can descend on anyone, it has no season,
Semblance behind selfie smiles, shatter for no reason.
It can stalk anyone, a recluse living in obscurity,
Age no bar, nor gender or status, it can happen to a celebrity.
That all is not well on the inside, visible only to one caring,
Who sincerely drops in to see how the friend is faring.
In some cases, it needs to go beyond just share and care,
Clinical help to be solicited like for cold and flu in the air.
When will we talk openly on things like mental health?
Why counselling session at the psychiatrist is spoken in stealth.
To address it in public domain, we need to lend our voice,
First step would be to acknowledge that depression is an illness, not a choice.