Am I meant to be here?
In a place with only fear—
No love, no trust;
just hatred, anger, sadness.
A place, where your true self
nobody cares to see—
Here, with no place for me.
Am I meant to live like this?
In a way that makes me feel sick;
makes me cry and scream for help,
In a way that makes me lonely,
In a way that makes me beg
to be free—
Because I feel like a dying tree.
Am I meant to see this day?
This day that makes me feel like running away.
I have so many questions left unanswered,
Among them is one,
Very important to me—
Am I even meant to be?
YOU ARE READING
Alone | Poetry
PoetrySometimes, you're the loneliest when you're in a room full people. Sometimes, you hurt the most when you can't feel. Loneliness kills.
