Photograph

Look at me in that photograph
Do I look sick to you?
The dark circles around my eyes
The pale skin
All reflecting the internal battle
I’m trying to be happy
The smile says it all
Straining, I want to be there
My heart refuses the call

I hate the burden of that smile
So fake and tired, it rips my face
It burns my eyes, and I hope
That one day it will fade
To yellowing ochre, like old photographs
Taking the sad, tired story with it
So I may forget the day
And only remember the people in it.