Prophecy Of Depression Poem by georgia hunter cannon

so i add another one to the lot.
down it goes with a unsteady shake.
i find away to turn the pain into bliss
another scar adds someone close
as i stop to contemplate the sanity of this,
i realise an explanation will be needed.
when you lose all sense of feeling and your
judgment is no more, where can you turn to?
who can you ask for help?
when you dont have the strength to answer
either then what can you do?
all you have is your mind to surrender to the all-forsaken,
the professor the prophecy of depression.
when all you can do is carry out day to day
tasks and always wondering weather its all worth while
in the long term abandoned future.
so do others understand to which i dont?
does it make me a bad person for wanting to die?
am i shunned against the fact that i do not believe?