Dear life, let me tell you something about my day;
Recent events have been good;
But after all I still don't know how to say;
How all my thoughts are missunderstood.
I am thinking about what's right and wrong,
What others might think and feel,
Or just that life goes on,
Though sometimes this might not seem real.
Hurt and broken, like anyone else;
I stray around and still feel lonely;
There are lots of souls like myself;
But yet I am lost, if only;
I could find some way to be alive;
But also just not be here;
I could just stay inside;
Though then I'd shed not a single tear.
Pain and loss are beautiful;
Although it's time that gives them beauty;
You need to feel, like usual;
To find a sense in them is everyones duty.
Love and hate, or luck and fear.
Everything contradicts.
Everything is simply there and yet it has a meaning.
Everything and everyone.
What is this thing that we call life.
What is this feeling we all crave.
What is this emptiness inside myself.
How could hell be any worse than this?
