My shoes slapped against the concrete, like my hands on the walls of that place, 

My shoelaces tied tightly, like the noose that went around my neck,

Bright, unlike the place that trapped me,

Happy people strolled slowly down all streets, some weren't too happy,

Drenched in black, like the house I once lived in,

I go back to that place sometimes, 

It's like an old childhood home with bitter memories,

when I go back to that place, there is nothing but a memory lane full of torment and the blank empty stares of the pictures of people,

The people who torment me, the memories that torment me, the lies that torment me,

I was trapped in my own mind, it's hard to believe,

But now I am content in my own little world,

For I have not taken my happy pills, but decided to move out of that place,

Sometimes that place also comes back to me along with memories, but I rather get rid of my depression naturally.