If I die tonight, I won't go into the light, for I am a black sheep one to sell, but not to keep. I wither and die at every sound and to hell I am bound. My soul suffers as my body does too, but I will never ever be cool. My hands will shake as my body aches because like a knife I've gone through too much pain and suffering. My wings were crushed under the pressure and I was stabbed by a happy never after. I knew it then as I do know now. My gosh I'm such a clown. I smile and laugh to cover my pain, but how would you feel if you never saw me again?
