Depressed

When sleeping is better
than being awake,
and happiness is getting
harder to fake,
where do you go
when you want to die,
when everyday,
you break down and cry.
When people so close
are fading away,
no matter how much
you pray that they stay.

Cant they see
the pain in your eyes
from the disappointment of every morning,
when from your bed you continue to arise.

You struggle to make it
to the night.
Everyday you stand up
and try to fight.

Thats all i have for right now. I just stopped writing. I will repost it when im done. I hope some of this is even a little good. Let me know by commenting. Thanks