Drafts of the Soul

To be Born is a Sin

Every time I wake up in the morning

I wish I hadn't woken up again

The pain from yesterday

I feel it again today

In my eyes, you're my everything

In your eyes, I'm just nothing

I feel like to be born is a sin

Seems like my appearance to you is a poisonous gin

The love that I craved for since then

You cannot give it to me - 'til when?

Oh, how unlucky I am as a child

In this world full of why's, how can I survive?

Every morning we see each other

I say, "Good morning, mother, father"

One of you looks at me for a while

One of you will never look at me and smile

I have so many things running in my mind

Looking at the mirror and breathe to sigh

You look at me and yell in my face

Call me useless and a disgrace

I run away from home but I'll come back

I promise to bring you a beautiful gift in a big sack

So that you can finally smile at me and love me

And the thoughts running in my head will finally be free

I run back at home, run to you with a smile

"Mom, Dad, look," I say as I hold up thousands of medals

You frown and ask, "Is that all you can do?"

"Your sister and brother can still do better than you."

I'm at my room, sits on the bed, and sighs with tears

They had never loved me of all these years

I have no one, I only have myself

Only I can hear my cries while they pretend to be deaf.