THE BANE OF YOUR HAPPINESS

THE BANE OF YOUR HAPPINESS

I roam the world,
No nationality or ethnicity,
No pronoun or labels,
None of my own.
But I do take on the identities of the lives I infiltrate,
Without them realizing,
Until it's too late.

I am as old as the human mind,
As young as an abused child’s trauma,
Yet I am called an excuse or just a figment of overt imagination.
Millennials call me a pseudo phenomenon their kids make up,
Not realizing the horrors I inflicted upon their fathers, The Boomers.

When people jeer at me and tell themselves that I do not exist,
That is when I am the happiest.
And mind you, I don’t come alone.
I bring my peers to wreak havoc upon any lives.
No barriers, no specific types.
I am in everyone—from children to senile,
The adolescents to middle-aged.
I am the embodiment of pain and suffering,
The emotional agony.

I make kids lose their childhood.
I make teenagers scream in pain and slit their wrists.
I make the most things you love mundane forever beyond repair.

I destroy everything nice about them.
No aspect of life is untouched by me—personal, professional, academic.
I make a loser in all of them.
I am the most powerful in this world.
I will not stop until I destroy everything.
I cackle while inflicting torture.

I am the first one to be diagnosed in any lunacy.
But some people are vocal about my presence,
I am grateful to be in fame.
Scholars have researched on how to battle me,
Their research helps a few,
But people never approach the scholars—
Fools, all of them.
They think I will pass,
I will never pass, only people will pass away.
Seems like they kill themselves, when it was I who murdered them brutally.

People think treatment will help,
But I will always recur.
No life is untouched by me.
I chip off their sanity bit by bit.People assume I am sadness that will pass away.
This myth is my biggest strength.
I am not mere sadness, I am a mood disorder.
I am Depression,
The Bane of your Happiness.

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