The rejection of friends to hang or to talk.

They don't mean to hurt, cuz it's no big deal,

They don't know it's written in pen, not in chalk.

---

I need them, maybe too much,

but since my family is little help,

I rely on friends, to let my get by,

Though how I feel like a useless whelp.

---

I'm scared they'll get tired,

Afraid I'll be a bore,

Or to make them mad,

And still, what is more,

---

This fear is the thing,

It surely must be,

That is actually annoying,

How can I break free?

---

I wish sometimes, faintly and weak,

That simply I didn't care,

But that is not the truth, it is too cold,

Such a wish I wouldn't dare.

---

It hurts to be here, so what is the point?

You wouldn't know if you were gone.

So why do I stay, if it matters not?

Cuz perhaps someday, I'll belong.

---

Some things do help, distraction is bliss,

And for these things do I remain,

For if I was gone, I wouldn't be here,

To regret it, or feel the pain.