Lost Little Girl

I'm sure you've heard it before
    how dark depression can be
in the depths of prose and lore,
    but please, hear it from me.
Crying for help is a lost little girl,
    without a clue what to do.
Most girls her age smile and twirl,
    love dresses and pink little shoes,
but this little girl, her name still unknown,
    sees no light anywhere to be found.
Even when she thinks it will be shown,
    her hopes are dashed to the ground.
This girl is in me, and in you, and us all,
    tending to hide in the pain,
She cannot hear to answer your call,
    or she does and you think you're insane.
This is a story, not true, but REAL.
    More real than the ink on a page,
Depression is more than the sadness you feel,
    it's the hurt, desperation and rage.
You may take my tale lightly and think of it naught,
    If that is what you must do,
but always is acknowledgment sought,
    and the pain of it all is quite true.
This poem was written for those who will read it,
    understanding or without a clue,
but no matter your purpose, I hope you know,
    I always wrote this for you.