Bummed Out

I am upset at everything

I'm moody and unsure

I write with a playful attitude

While depression waits by the door

My friends can't understand

Without some verstehahn

What's in this awful land

That some might call a brain

I smile for a camera

I smile for my friends

I dare not speak of depression

Their ears, it offends

Everyone is there for you

And they are free to talk

But they grow sick of sorries

and think it is a crock

They just don't understand

Why I can't just cheer up

To them, it's a foreign land

In which I am stuck