Depression Like a Seashell

A seashell is round, a circle unending,It’s sharp and unruling.The emptiness, bland and white,Swirls closed and tight.The shell, representing depression,Downward, in direction.It hurts and stabs, cuts and scars.And feels like rusty bars.You lose it, without a trace,Look it in the face.Gone forever, or so you thought,In the waves, it got caught.It travels to the shore …