Depression.

Thirty three.

Apparently you can't go on, not even for a week,

Not without that one night, where tears roll down my cheek.

You'll always have that night, where you seem to break down,

The world suddenly tears apart, and then falls your crown.

Your most prized possession, that gives you the courage,

To hold back your screams, you get on that carriage,

It takes you to a land, of butterflies and bees,

Of fake smiles and forced hugs, and mystical trees.

But so very soon, it all fades away,

You'll end up on your own, no one will stay.

That's when you realize, they're all a lie,

Your dying within, no more can you hide.

You let your mask fall, you drop to the ground,

In the corner of that hall, no life to be found.

You let that dreadful feeling, take all over you,

You start to feel hopeless , let your sorrow flow, true.

You'll always have that one single night,

Maybe on Monday, or that Sunday night?

You figure people never knew you, they never will,

And you'll keep on hiding, until it's you your fear kills.