Self Analyzed Grief

Some say he's grief stricken

He lost his will

And now he's in a slumber

Slumbering and wanting to run away

No longer his strong self

He'd rather hide and cry

Than he would stand up and engage

Unwilling or disbelieving

He lost his spirit

And than he realized

He was deep into it

Shattered like glass

Breakable like porcelain

Tainted like raw jade

And a father-less dream

All of this wraps in his head

Keeping him up all night long

Losing his energy

Losing his sight

A internal struggle of emotions, life, death

Yet he made such a big picture of himself

Forever strong able to help others

Yet he can't even help himself

How ironic is that

Maybe he's tired

Of being that picture

Maybe he's ready to give up

But there is a voice in his head

Telling him never to give up

Because that's not how he was raised

Swallowing bitter pills of sadness

Walking the night streets

Stargazing within his depression

Searching through the stars

Looking for his guiding light.