Sometimes,
Just sometimes,
Maybe always,
But sometimes,
….
I feel like running away from home to see if things would get better,
Sometimes I feel like staying home and letting my family and friends watch me suffer without them knowing,
But sometimes I lock myself in my room and cry,
Cry till’ I run out of tears,
It’s ironic how right after I stop crying one of my family members walk into my room,
And thats when the fake smile comes along,
It’s funny right,

You know what else is funny?,
Me convincing people that i’m ok when I just got finish writing a poem about my depression or sadness,
Last year  the school called my mom and I made her cry,
She read the poem,
She saw it with her own eyes,
She felt it,
Four years of pain going onto five,
I’ve made progress tho,
I started to help people more than myself,
Care less about myself,
Maybe that;s what I need to do,
Maybe that will make me happy,
Sometimes you have to care more about others than yourself,
Or maybe always.
-Skar