They mock depression,
And treat anxiety like a punchline
Mental health doesn't have a home,
It's never addressed
Instead of seeking help,
They drown in pain and sorrow,
by the bottle.
To avoid healthy conversations,
They smile and gossip,
Behind your back,
Like everything's fine,
When they're breaking down inside.
These coping techniques,
Got passed down,
By generation before them,
And they will pass it down,
To their children.
Creating a never-ending chain,
Of unresolved trauma.
YOU ARE READING
Something In My Poetry
Poesíakekadang terfikir sejenak, sampai bila nak mcm ni. Bukannya tak pernah bagi peluang, cuma disia-siakan. Nak kata hati tak pernah terbuka, selalu je mencuba dan terus mencuba untuk membuka satu cerita. Tapi, semuanya terletak pada hati, bila dah sela...
