I offered drinks and nobody was thirsty
I offered oreos when they were angsty
I tried serving and their backs were on me.
sometimes I don't think before I start screaming.I'm sorry but the lecture was torturing.
sometimes I don't think before I walk around with a veil over me, mourning.I'm sorry to scare, but I was just thinking about the idea of a darker morning.
sometimes I don't think before I mumble to the doll on my arm.Don't worry, she isn't alive. I just haven't got anyone who would listen to my bitchin'.
I preferred their ignorance
I preferred them cliques
I tried having one but they weren't in my league.
Don't get me wrong, I could have carried the world on the back of me.
Just sometimes, I think nobody ever fancies what they see, the real me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem