I tried to figure was it me
Why people make these promises they can't keep
I guess its their way of getting out
The mess they started from way back
Nobodys there when you need them
Fill your head with dreams
And then they crush them
Promising that they'll have your back
But, when you turn around its been stabbed
Nobodys here and will never be
That's one thing I know
It will always be the lonely me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem