lookin' for an optomitrist

some ills can't be cured, some treatments only mask the symptoms leading to repressed ills

your eyes are grey, sad ’n lonely
no one understands your hurt
the optometrist can’t cure you
you stare into vacuous space
into staring eyes you look, 
those do not see, save few
the ones who feel like you
no one knows; it’s unclear
therapy can’t cure you,
the therapist has his own issues
he has not found a cure himself
your sadness is a leaden coffin
holds you down, heavy as darkness
strange how dark can be heavy
your tears are trapped inside,
not shed, pressured
the tears will not fall,
makes your throat ache holding them in  
adding to the weight
it would help,
be worth the weight of all the world’s so called therapists
if simply, someone who loves you,
a real friend were there to catch them
your tears silent unseen, 
within your soul they flow, 
into your heart’s cuts
they sting like lemon’s acid
they run a steady stream
you would give your heart in exchange
to the one who understood
to the one who you could feel 
what only you yourself know
makes you sad
makes your pain
as yet, no one understands
their trifle words rife, 
slight and weak as your own 
makes you wanna jump off a cliff
to resolve the source
and cure you’re suffering
your eyes are grey, sad ’n lonely
no one understands your hurt
you stare into vacuous space
your hurts carry the weight 
of a thousand cuts,
a million bruises
countless abuses
you and i need a great physician
one who’s been there and back
like you and me, here
but we need to make it back
lighten the load with
one who’ll help us carry the weight
set us straight and doesn’t charge
for anyone’s who’s thirsty
c’mon, let’s cast our cares on him
what do we have to lose