I wrote this years ago when I was younger. An early teen or preteen I was then. Pretty sure I was sad when I wrote it.

-------

That person,
that person who
lives across the
street.
She who leaves
her home with
a look of defeat.
Her voice: very
unfamiliar, for
she hardly speaks.

At school she
could make
new friends
in less than
a week.
She was very kind &
forgiving.
Very thought-
full and opti-
mistically living.

Despite her a-
mazing qualities
she sometimes felt
empty inside. Ashamed
and forlorn of the unfor-
getable past she mostly "survived".

-------

I guess I was depressed then? Not sure.
Today, I would make a few changes and corrections to it, but I typed the word as written.

If I was depressed (or at least in deep sorrow), looking back I know the things I suffered were hardly anything in comparison to the lives of others.. Even so that didn't rly make the pain go away..
I couldn't, no person could mend my wounds.
But God did (:
If it sounds too easy.. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn't.
I tried helping myself for years and all I really had to do was to let God help me. He had and has so much to offer, so much He wanted to do for me. All I had to do was ask for forgiveness and say yes. Like maybe "Yes, God. I'm in need. I can't help myself. I accept your help and your love. Your blessings.. for me."