Glued to a Frown

I’ll start this poem a little different.
Or, maybe not. I’ll just be blunt.

It’s difficult for me, that’s what I meant
I’m searching, scanning, an all-out hunt,
For that thing that can’t be expressed in words.

So I’m writing myself down,
To try and picture it, I know this is all absurd,
But what do you expect, I’m glued to a frown.

I’ve never been beat, attacked, or starved
But ‘Happiness’ sounds like an Egyptian Myth
Hung, Drawn, quartered and halved.

I know this poem isn't Beethoven’s fifth,
But I didn't make this for you.
If you met me, the scene would be the usual.

Fifteen minutes of fame, then threw
Away, bored and careless, feelings not mutual,
Call it a cry for help, a cry for attention.

I’m trying to see when I’m in an abyss, staring down,
My senses all nulled, not to mention
What you see. You just see a lifeless waste

Glued to a frown