It’s easy to claim it’s all just show,
When you’ve not walked the path I know.
They call it drama, loud display,
But they’ve not lived my night or day.

I choose the silence, choose the shade,
To hide from judgments harshly made.
For narrow minds will never see,
The weight of pain inside of me.

They say depression has its cure,
That healing waits, that hope is sure.
But ignorance, so sharp, so blind,
No remedy can change that mind.

So let them speak, let whispers fall,
They cannot grasp the truth at all.
For I am more than what they claim,
A soul that burns beneath the blame.