You noticed I wasn't well, you said you could tell.
You asked if I was alright, and why my smile wasn't as bright.
I said I was good. I wanted to smile. If only I could.
I managed a small one. You saw you job as done.
With all these questions in my youth, I have yet to answer with the truth.
You tried, I lied.
Why did you believe me?
YOU ARE READING
Almost a poet
PoesíaI'm trying my luck at poetry so it'd be great to get some feedback. Keep in mind that these poems are strongly related to depression, anorexia, and things of that sort. If you are recovering, this story is not recommended for you.
