Every day,
I come home,
Throw my things on the couch,
And go to my bedroom,
I sit on my bed,
Thinking about the day,
And my life,
But only certian things come up,
I can’t remember the last time something good happened to me,
That bed is stained with tears,
Which all screamed there own stories as they fell,
I’ve cried them all out,
Shunned them away from my view,
When I go to school,
Everyone see’s this fake smile on my face,
They think it’s all o.k.,
But it isn’t,
I smile on the outside…yes,
But I am crying from within,
Every face I see brings a new tear,
My heart is melted with these tears,
They never go away,
These thoughts,
These memories,
There all running through my head,
It feels like a hurricane is inside of it,
I see all these happy faces all over the place,
And wonder why can’t I be like that?
Why can’t I truely be happy?
Why do I always sit here with my head in my hands?
Why can’t I find someone to bring light to my dark world?
My friends tell me their there for me,
Right before they run away to talk to someone else,
I feel as if there not even there,
I’m always sitting where I am now,
Infront of my computer typing one of these things,
Everyone calls them poems,
I call them my tears.