It's war torn and sepia-colored now, parchment like, but the little scrap of paper containing this verse has long been a treasure of mine, a template for any poem I write.

Depression lies. It lies in all sorts of ways. Depression tells you that you are worthless and that nobody needs you. It tells you that it cannot be treated. But if you are lost in the darkness, keep calling out. Someone will respond, I promise.

Then came the Robin Williams news, and a profound sadness as I pictured him in his final moments, believing that the darkness of the world was too much to bear. He gave me hours of happiness for so many years. The least I could do to repay him is to not let his tragic death be in vain.

As we get older it's difficult to see others we care about exit our lives. However we often become inured to it. When someone as gregarious and outgoing as Robin Williams goes before his time it's especially disturbing. For many of us it's as if a close friend has passed away. He and his cohorts are inextricably woven into the fabric of our lives.