why do i feel
that people think
bad about me
whenever i blink?
is it the scars
that they see?
that makes them all
think badly of me?
or is it the fact
they see my face
and they all know
i wanna leave this place
if they know
i'm willing to do
the things i say
i want to do
why don't they realize?
why don't they try?
but instead they go on
with their everyday lives
i'm speaking clearly
or so it seems
am i the only one
who hears my screams?
i'm yelling to you
can't you see?
i need your help
please listen to me
i sit there and yell
but nothing comes out
do they know i'm here?
i'm starting to doubt
i'm in this glass cage
and i sit there and shout
but no one can hear me
to help me out
where is my gaurdian
my angel my friend
that's is there to guide me
to the end?
where is she at?
where did she go?
she needs to help me
outta this circus show
in the end i've killed myself
and i've killed her soul
was that
my potential goal?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
again........ good job! !