It was my works that was always been unwanted
Which makes me feel less, makes me feel daunted.
It was me who was and will never be wanted.
No use, no purpose just fitted to be flaunted.
It was also me the kind of song that no one wants to hear,
A song that no one bothered opening up their ears.
It may be absurd to know that it was what I truly fear,
But it can't be denied, it was shown in the tears.
Like how everyone striving to be notice --
Striving to be on top.
Is how I also fell to the edges--
Giving me the feeling to stop.
Yet I try harder and harder for myself to improve,
And in everything I do is my worth that I prove.
But it's not that much, it's can't be a perfect move
To do my best in such field -- I'm still being disapproved.
It such a pity that I can't really taste success,
How much more for me to be able to savor it?
And for how I express no one seems to impress.
How much more for me to become someone's favorite?
