If You Were Here

If you were here,
Would you look at me with disappointment?
Would you be ashamed of the person I've become?

The days are long.
Sometimes I can barely stand,
My feet drag when I walk,
I can't hold my head up high.

I often cannot smile,
Because my head is clouded with darkness.
It is clouded around with all sorts of a jumbled mess.

People would say I'm depressed.
Hopefully I am,
Because its better than communicating with this whole mess.
Maybe people would like me less.