Slowly

My days are just monotoned.
It's just another Friday,
All alone.
Parents concerned,
You say nothing's wrong
You asked that yourself,
all day long.
Missing someone or
needing someone
To help you pass through
the day.
You walk alone,
Through with all that
you have to say.
Things being marked
in your head.
Depression sinking
on your bed.
Tired, worn down as you
lay down crying.
Wishing; Hoping
Slowly dying.