And an odd tale at that. A man
who suffers, suffers silently,
no one hears him
except for us. We suffer for him
Compounded anxiety
Crippling depression
Countless worries
No one sees them.
But we feel them
and we express them.
Consider the man to whom we belong:
a lonely man
a sad man
a “just fine” man.
Only a few see his pain.
We feel it.
Every thing, Every little thing
WE are bound to express it.
Anxiety?
We type it away.
Depression?
Our nails bear its suffering.
Worries?
We carry the burden of a pen to relieve it.
But no one knows what we endure
Save us
And you.
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