I reach my hand out to help
But I always wind up getting hurt
I feel as if I'm The Fates whipping boy
But you won't see scars under my shirt
I fight through the pain but it's never through
Rejected, pushed aside, isolated and unwanted
It's what I receive from everyone
But I keep going and I keep trying
Maybe somebody will let me inside
It's a hopeless thought I know
But I can't relinquish my hold on hope
And I can't help but try to help
Even if I get burnt an infinite amount of times
Because that's just who I am
And I hate that most of all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem