Why do I smile when it's only a fake?
Why do live when it's not for me?
Why am I here if there's no point in living?
Why do I ask the questions there will never be an answer to...?
Why do I laugh? When it's forced.
Why do I smile? When it's only for show.
Why am I happy? When the feeling soon goes away
Why do I love? When the feelings aren't real.
Why do I do the 'happy' things? When they are all fake.
When they are all there just to fool those around you.
Why does a friend promise to love you and always be there for you?
When all she'll do is backstab you and let you fall.
Why are these things fake?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem