I will never be at peace,
for there is no place in this world for me.
Wherever I go, people stab at me.
I simply pull the blade deeper in to my bosom
and mournfully smile as I continue to wander.
You do know it yet, but I am different than you.
Far more different than you can ever understand.
You will never know this pain,
reflected from the depths of mine eyes.
You will never comprehend this morbid smile,
the lapses of time that pass in silent contemplation.
I can never learn to trust,
I can never completely yield to anyone.
I can never be accepted because I am not of you.
I was wielded of a more somber metal.
I cannot live a normal life, cannot live at all:
too afraid of the world to be a part of it.
Promises of a bright future mean nothing to me.
I am weary of condescending people,
devoid of all thought and emotion.
Such shallow people, pledging faith,
everlasting love that dances on the wind.
To you, I will never submit.
Each day, bit by bit, you acquire your identity,
but each day I lose part of myself as I smile, as I laugh,
as my soul weeps for this pitiful façade that I must maintain.
A tall tree catches much wind,
And the small plants and shrubs that gather at its roots for shade
only take and never give anything in return,
never give a second thought.