wandering through this street

Like a sick wolf every morning I rise to the scorching sun
I want to birdbox through life, but curiosity got me curious.
Am a dry husk of bones held together by depression,
trying to find my way through this life!
With every glaring pain and memory just making it worse.

I try to sneak past every situation, silently, I try
But the dry husk holding me together won’t let me
My bare-bones grinding on one another make the sound
Everyone turns and looks. I concur, smile and fake it
I must be like them, and I must smile with them!

Sometimes it just gets worse, and I open my mouth to scream
No voice comes out. I try to make gestures for help;
Everyone turns and smiles, and they imitate the gestures
Everything is taken as a new mode of life.
Yesterday I walked in rags due to lack, today everyone is in rags as the trend.

So how do I express myself? How do tell the world that am in pain?
How do I tell you that am an addict when you will laugh and smoke one?
I try to be alone, seek help from my pals-
But all of them seem to be wandering around.
We are living in a depressed world, trying to convince each other how happy we are!

We failed to listen to the aged wise ones.
I can’t recall the last time I knelt to thank the almighty
It now just seems too literal, why do we appreciate something we didn’t ask for?
We walk around with our eyes closed waiting for an accident to end the time.

No one is living. We got our ears and eyes covered!

We are but mere husks smiling and talking to reduce the pain
Or hide the suicidal thoughts lingering within us.
We walk expecting to trip and switch off!
I for once have forgotten myself.
A mere skeleton of dreams and goals walks,
waiting for that miracle to happen regardless of the inclination!

Who will help us?

Author's Note

what do you think of the thought?