Piles of Stress

They ask if I’m good, I nod and I grin,  

A mask on my face, no cracks from within.  

I work a bit harder, I sleep a bit less,  

Drown out the silence with piles of stress.  

I laugh at their jokes, I play my own part,  

But no one looks deeper, no one sees heart.  

Each day I dissolve, like ink in the rain,  

Smiling through thunder, hiding my pain.  

Would they even notice if I walked away?  

Or would I just fade like dusk into gray?  

Not all wounds bleed, not all cries are loud,  

Some men disappear beneath the crowd.  

So ask me, just once, don’t let me pretend,  

Because lonely gets louder when left to the end.