The Race


Sometimes depression finds me in the most unlikeliest of places
In the midst of my many faces
That change like the wind depending on other people's embraces
The race is rigged
Just when I think I am out of its sight, it finds me
It hides in plain sight, blending in with its surroundings
I can't see it, but I can hear its whispers of sadness and pain
Its embrace of anger smothers me until I can no longer be comforted
The only relief I receive is when it chooses to leave
But does it really?
Does depression really fade away? or is that just an illusion?
The ultimate magic trick to which I am the entertainment
But have yet to smile
All eyes on me
All laughs on me
They see me but don't understand the catalysts of this entity
Because some of it is them
And if the catalysts are the ones I interact with daily
No wonder it remains
The struggle of being myself
When others reject, make fun of, and belittle me
Makes it seem as though the simple solution would be for me to change
To become someone they can't use for their personal agenda
But then that would be going against His(God's) agenda
So what else can I do? What else should I do?
It's a race to peace, and I always seem to be one step behind.

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