To the kid that no one sits with at lunch
To the kid that has no friends
To the kid that can't feel love
To the kid that forgot how to smile
To the kid whose parents say "why'd I have to have one like this?"

To the kid who has to inflict pain to know they're still alive
To the kid who's in an endless cycle of depression
To the kid who has funky colored hair
To the kid who has no hair
To the kid that gets battered and bruised for who they are

To the kid that yearns for attention they never get
To the kid that can't think straight
To the kid that isn't straight
To the kid that can't feel what life should be

Depression. That's all you feel
You can no longer tell what's fake and what's real
And the voices in your head-the real you is what they conceal
They tell you to pick up that knife
That's what'll make it better
So you bleed and you scream
and you plead and you try to deem
What's right and what's wrong
But in the end, is anything really....right?

Put down the knife and think back....
You're here for a reason
And no matter what that reason may be, you serve a purpose
If you think long enough, that image might start to surface
You're here for a reason...