Why Sad Poems?

 I was always curious,

"For all the wrong reasons", they said.

Some said I wasn't,

But I always had things going on,

Echoing inside my "empty" head.

I liked keeping them tucked,

And I was afraid to ask.

Because my head was a safe space,

And I would not have to mask.

"Why would you put on this facade?"

Is what they would ask.

But I have always been this way,

"Less enthusiastic", as my dad would say.

I imagined a lot of things,

But I wouldn't be allowed to convey.

So I started writing,

All the things I had in my head.

"You're always sad",

People reading my poems would say.

But I think things unsaid are better,

Better in the writings I portray.

Because I do not owe them an explanation,

And they're free to interpret their way.

I think and feel a lot,

But I was never too "keen".

I fear if I will ever be,

More than I've always been.

I occasionally land on things,

Longing for wanting to be worthy.

But I still don't see the purpose,

That is why I express with subtlety.

I don't want to inflict my pain,

On people for whom I deeply care.

And in these think-pieces I write sometimes,

I seldom try to find myself.