I see how everyone's happy.
I see how everything's good
Without me, who is blaming
Myself for being a fool.You can call me stupid.
You can call me weird.
But nothing is truth then,
If you're not sincere.I see how everyone's happy.
I see how everything's good
Without me being a stranger.
That's why I'll do what I should.A backpack on my back.
Headphones in my ears.
My eyes are still red.
I don't like farewell tears.I'll just say goodbye,
But won't hear an answer.
And you never know why
They call me a stranger.
YOU ARE READING
Through the pain
PoetryForgotten notes of burnt pages. Image copyright belongs to Miroslav Boskov