My mom thinks I am depressed.
She thinks I'm sad beyond measure.
But I don't think I am.
Yet, sometimes, I think, I might as well be.

After all, since the moment I was born
I'm like the ground
feeling people's steps and weight on my shoulders
( even when they don't walk directly on me.)

I mean, I'm just like the ground
that can't do anything to lift people's worries out of them
They take care of me but I remain floored,
fixed to the idea that I am just me...

a ground
that don't have feet to walk  a  life of its own.

a ground
that don't have hands to build a world to live peacefully.

but then, I think, "No, I'm not a ground.
I'm a human with feet and hand.
I'm a human with a heart and mind.
I'm a human capable of creating a beautiful life"

But then I remember again that I'm depressed,
And I can't stop thinking that I am like the ground:
depressing as I feel people's steps and weight on my shoulders
( even when they don't walk directly on me),
drowning in this depression as I let people's problems rain on me

And I began to depress a lot more...

Until I realize that this depression, has made me gain depth.