i march my shoes from here to there
they wear me, i don't wear them
tell me why, tell me why.
i want to stop, it isn't fair
why they must always condemn
want to cry, want to cry.
i hate myself, i pull my hair
it starts with her, it starts with him
want to die, want to die.
tell me how i shouldn't care
my shoes; they're worn, i don't want them
tears are dry, tears are try.
goodbye
goodbye.
<I don't know what this poem even is. i'm just really tired and sad.>
