Empty glassy eyes watch me,

Being lowered and sent below,

Where my pressured feet used to trod.

Sad songs and empty tears,

Drench the August atmosphere,

As they swear their hearts are saddened,

And pour tears like the sun will see no tomorrow,

As if I was regal and contented souls,

And touched gray hearts.

Truth lies in the cold eyes that look on mournfully and say,

I was loved,

I was precious,

I was special,

I was destined for greatness,

As they struggle not to choke on their kind words that mean nothing,

Only just for show.

Watching myself going under,

While staring down,

Watching the hypocrites swear they loved me,

And how sad life is,

The same people that inspired my tears and never helped to dry them,

The same that cut open wounds and never allowed them to heal,

The same people that are saddened sat by and watched me pretend,

To be far above,

Truthfully,

I was always,

Going under.