Eyes glassy, she stared ahead, focusing on something in her line of sight,
Her mind though was elsewhere, her thoughts cloudy, caught in a fight.
The words played repeatedly like a mantra in her head, “you don’t know what fun is”,
She struggled to hold back tears, not quite comprehending what seemed to be amiss.
She would talk; she would occasionally laugh too, was that not enough?
She asked herself, wondering why getting by was meant to be so tough.
However, she failed to realize that the fault was that she was just ‘getting by’,
She had given up a long time ago, and now as she sat she began to wonder why.
Other scenes played in her head, of her friends inviting her to places,
She would usually decline, life for her just a blur of unfocused faces.
She would drown herself in things that preoccupied the mind, ready with an excuse,
“I’m tired” and other nonchalant reasons she had become far too accustomed to use.
It was hard for her to understand why, but a ‘no’ was always at the tip of her tongue,
She was ageing without living, she had forgotten what it was like to be young.
She racked her brain with questions, why the thought of life brought her with dread,
Why she would drown herself in music, and hope for a day off so she could lie all day in bed.
A coward she was, too scared to go outside, too scared to face what the day may hold,
She was afraid that if she got burnt, she would forget what it’s like to be cold.
Once upon a time, she was full of laughter and joy, open to what the world had to give,
But somewhere along the way she whispered to herself “I’m afraid”, and forgot what it was like to live.