I think that’s
what’s
wrong with the world
no one says what they feel,
they always hold it inside.
They’re sad, but they don’t cry.
They’re happy, but they don’t sing or dance.
They’re angry, but they don’t scream.
‘Cause if they do, they feel ashamed.
And that’s the worst feeling in the world.
So everyone walks with their heads down
and no one sees how beautiful the sky really
is.
You began to cry ,
just crying.
The deep and ugly kind,
the kind you lose yourself in,
though you’re thanking God that no one has to see
how rubbed and blotched your face becomes.
Though some detached part of you also wishes
there was someone there to see you now,
to see and understand just how sad you are at heart.
They don’t see it, and of course,
you would never show them
that side of
you.