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SICK
I’ve stared in the heart of depression
As emptiness infected me like virus
Choked for years behind a smile,
I have never known factual
Frightened to be called weak
I die inside, but with smile
Thus graduating in art of falsehood
As even I these smirks fool
I’d imagine my inevitable tangible ending
How little it would be of significance
As my cold soul roved ghostly
Purposeless, lost and dead
Bliss drained from my very core
And mornings appear hopeless
Filled with finite rays of distress
As the only shade seemed to be death
I walk with pockets rich with smiles
But nobody knew what’s inside
And as the moon salutes night,
This sickness circle’s my head
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