I'm growing tired,
But all I can seem to do is run.

I'm losing time,
But all I can seem to do is push it off.

If I'm stress out,
It's all my fault.

If I'm doing bad,
It's all my fault.

I don't know what to expect,
I don't know where I'll end up.

I can say I'll be happy no matter what,
But then why is it so hard?

It's these thoughts,
My thoughts, like I said,
That make me so tired;
Tired enough that all I want to do is sleep and never wake up.

Because that's all I seem to do anyway,
Is dream all my troubles away,
I never actually enter the fray,
I just pretend to control it.

Who is that man?
That boy?
That human being reaching for heaven?
He looks happy, but he kinda looks sad too...
I can't quite tell,
This mirror is in the way.