You don't cry anymore.

So used to you is the sickness that is sadness

that tears don't fall anymore;

Eyes only cloud

and fingers only pick at each other

and as the monotonous drive drags on and on

you see the tough concrete wall and think,

"It wouldn't be the worst way to go.

Would be quick."

But you never quite do it

because you have parents you need to impress

and mothers to buy houses for

and most of all

you don't cry anymore

so it can't be that bad.