There are some things that I feel that feel great,
But there are also some things that feel miserable,
And While I lay here in bed,
Trying to sleep,
Trying to hold on to hope I can’t keep,
There are people walking in the old hallways.
These are people whom I’m unsure about,
Who come off as happy and carefree,
But so do I.
There are people who walk through the halls wearing raybans and visors for I don’t know what reason. They’re gabbing with friends, texting and walking with a relaxed purpose. Looking around, nonchalant but sniffing for more beer. At first I look at these people and I think that they have no problems, or at least if they do, they’re not deeply affected by them. I see that these people are carefree and look as if there are no weights on their chests. However, once I remind myself that I too look like this. I too look carefree, easygoing, concerned with only fun and a good time.
So our problems are invisible just as our pain isn’t seen with the naked eye. For all I know, their hearts are heavy just as mine and their scars might even be deeper. Whoever they are, however they feel, I respect them. And I won’t judge.