I may seem happy,

But inside I'm dying.

My friends are the cause of this pain.

I'm everything they could hope for,

And they take me for granted.

The pain they cause is beyond description,

It's as if my heart is ripping,

Tearing itself apart.

They only talk to me when no one else is around.

I'm always in the back of our group's crowd.

They never ask me how I'm feeling,

When I look at the ground,

Or stare into space,

They don't see that something's wrong.

When I'm around them,

I have no identity.

I'm just someone's friend, no more.

I'm just the punching bag,

Both physical and verbal.

I'm just the last resort,

Only noticed when there's nobody else.

I'm the nice guy, the comforter,

Who never gets comforted.

I wish I could tell them,

I'm not afraid for myself,

But I don't want to hurt them.

I don't want to see their faces when they realise,

Something is wrong, and they are the problem.

Hopefully they'll find out.

I don't know if I can survive like this.

Yet I can't hurt them.

I guess I'll go on like this.

When we move on,

Maybe this pain will leave.

Maybe this pain, my friends, will leave.

Dark Falco3000