Twenty-three
Many days I've walked around, consumed by raw emotion,
I keep my feelings to myself, avoiding the commotion.
"Open up", I've heard before, I don't know where to start,
Wishing I could learn to use my head before my heart.
Sick of hearing empty words, preceding lack of action,
Soften me up, knowing I'm weak, providing brief distraction.
The truth is no one listens, since "You brighten up the room",
I say goodbye, I close the door, my mind's default is gloom.
See, "Open up", they're easy words, just no one seems to ask,
How I am, sincerely, it's clearly quite the task.
I've always been an open book, discussing my depression,
A different man to what I was, it's clear to see the regression.
I beg there comes a day where someone puts my mind at ease,
Can't do this by myself, my state of mind is a disease.
Wasted years of my life, when I should feel free,
I wish for better days than I've lived-out at twenty-three.
Posted Nov 22, 2022, 8:49 PM UTC