Dry Eyes

I'm fed up with mornings
Is all I can say
I'm filled with mourning
At the start of each day

Well, the word, mourning, honestly
Is inaccurate, for it is, rather
a wish to never wake again, mostly
since I lost my beloved father.

Depression is terrible--
I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy
Cures exist, but, thanks random people
Stigma surrounds the remedy

Within my mind, I feel like a toy
For I cannot tell
The difference between joy
And a heartbreaking spell

My friends, they say,
It's all in my head
There's absolutely no way
I could be sad and depressed

"You have a good life", says one
Blessed are the unaware.
"Be thankful. Everything isn't gone"
Kind words are met with emotionless stares.

The curse is such
That all feelings blend
Into nothing much
But the same things again

It's not that I'm sad all the time
In fact I barely ever cry
For even during moments most sublime
My eyes stay dry

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