Maybe It's Me?

You look around but do not see,
This emptiness that inhabits me.
This feeling of wanting my final bed,
The feeling of wishing that I were dead.

I see you walk around and smile,
And wonder if just for a little while.
If you could feel this endless dread,
Wouldn’t you also wish to be dead?

Maybe it’s me, is there something wrong,
That keeps my heart from singing that song?
Surely they know this endless pain,
This feeling that soon they’ll go insane.

Maybe it’s me, something in my mind,
Something my heart can never find.
Something devouring my very soul,
While the reaper makes another pull.

If we’re all this way, I can’t complain,
For everyone else must feel this pain.
That pulls and slowly tears apart,
The binds that hold the beating heart.

But if they do, then how do they smile,
When life is altogether so vile?
Maybe it’s me, just my belief,
That draws me to this endless grief.

But why and how could this happen to me?
I try to be good, so why can’t they see?
The powers that drive my living force,
And throw my life so far off course?

But how can it be, this feeling of dread,
Could it be only me, just here in my head?
Maybe they cover so I can’t see,
But then again, maybe it’s me.