Poems of my Mind

As a child

I lay awake at night

Crying.

I wasn't hurt, or upset really,

Just confused.

It wasn't like my life was hard,

I just thought it was.

I blew situations out of proportion

And fed on the despair they brought.

I asked, "Why me?"

A simple enough question.

But one I didn't see the point in asking.

Because I couldn't pin point why I was upset.

Sure, bad things happen,

But they happen to everybody,

There was nothing special about me.

There was nothing special about me.

Yes, my friends fell out,

But whose friends don't?

I couldn't be upset about that.

We weren't really friends anyway.

We weren't really friends anyway.

Yeh, my closest friend left me as soon as we left school.

But it was fine,

He was too cool for me anyway.

He was too cool for me anyway.

I can't even remember much about my life as a child,

Most of it is tainted by my medical affliction.

And even some of those I don't remember.

I sugar coated them to protect myself.

Selfish, really.

Selfish, really.

I just wanted to be normal I guess

But I had always been like this,

There was nothing to aspire towards.

So how could I be normal?

So how could I be normal?

Living with my sister could be difficult.

But we didn't argue much.

She was two years older,

But that didn't stop me trying to be like her.

She was just too smart I guess.

She was just too smart I guess.

A bit of a genius she was.

Always got amazing grades in school.

And was loved by everyone.

She was quiet,

And I was loud.

Polar opposites we were.

She was smart,

And I was dumb.

And I was dumb.

I was a happy child as far as I remember

(Aside from those nights)

Playing on the beach,

And in the park.

Some things I tend to forget.

With my family, out for the day.

They were a little odd.

My dad, always wanting the best,

He could be hard on me.

He could be hard on me.

Refusing to buy me ice cream or a teddy bear,

But that was life, what did I expect?

He taught my sister guitar,

She's fantastic at it now.

He got me one too,

So what if he didn't teach me?

So what if he didn't teach me?

My Mum, careful and precise

Like her artwork,

Always told the truth.

And she never got angry,

She just gave up on me.

She just gave up on me.

My auntie, the perfectionist,

Always wanting me to do as she said,

Because she was always right.

She drove me mad!

She drove me mad!

Nothing was ever good enough for her,

Nothing I did was good enough.

Nothing I did was good enough.

She was a funny one.

So, why was I crying that night?

I guess I never found out;

There was nothing wrong with my life.

So, no, I wasn't upset then.

But because of my subconscious,

I sure as hell are now.