The little girl weeps in the corner.
The bruises on her backside, reflects the anger and stupidity.
Yet no one can see, or feel her pain.
She's too young to understand whats going on.
They can not see, the things that really go on.
They try to be, something that their not.
I can't be me, in this word of hate and misery.
This world is just not for me.
He's all alone, with no one to talk to.
He cries himself to sleep at night, and hates to think of tomorrow.
He cuts and bleeds, he feels no pain.
If only they knew, what he was really going through.
They can not see, the things that really go on.
They try to be, something that their not.
I can't be me, in this word of hate and misery.
This world is just not for me.
(NOT FINISHED)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is intended to be a song, but I have not yet completed it and thought I'd post it as a poem.: ]