I weep for all the lives I won't live,
For all the loves I never had,
For the times I looked in your face and breath was put into my lungs,
For songs I never wrote,
For people that I promised to see soon,
For my childhood,
For the times I missed work,
For the times I didn't do my homework,
For the times I chose nothing over living,
For the seasons of depression.

Why does it feel like somethings missing?