I’ve met depression in my closest friends;
I know it isn’t sadness but disease.
I had to stretch to sense how gloom descends
on them, and colonizes energies,
while I appear to teem with neural wealth
(my serotonin levels must be high),
and had a patient dad who nurtured health
and counteracted Mom’s abrupt replies.

It’s not a gloat, but I appreciate
the fortune of my mental chemistry
and strong paternal luck. It wasn’t fate,
I think, but an astounding recipe
for happiness, bestowed on me and fed.
(It’s always entertaining in my head).