Feeling depressed, I put on a smile,
As I do my best to choke down the bile.
A blank expression I always wear,
But in fact, true happiness is rare.
'What's wrong, what is it?' they ask.
'Nothing,' I say, composing a mask.
At the end of the day, I lay on my bed,
My heart and mind feeling like lead.
If only they knew,
What I have to go through.
There are others who have it worse than me,
I don't realise it, but compared to others, I'm free.