The walls of my mind are like the walls of an Insane Asylum. Tall. Intimidating. The zombies of my previous thoughts and happiness try to climb over, but can’t get to the top before they are knocked down again by my Depression. Star light. Star bright. First star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might. Have the wish I wish tonight. Is it childish that I still believe that this nursery rhyme will grant my wish and make me happy once more? Or is it just superstition? Do I really want to be happy? I’m not sure. No one is. Their attempts to help me are greatly appreciated, yet I cannot even help myself. I am hopeless. Or at least that’s what my depression tells me; whispers in my ear; You are weak. You will never be strong again. But I will be strong. One day.