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Why
My life put in words.
A place of hate and agony, a place of fear.
People only say they love you to get you off there back.
My smile and spaz life is only the make-up of my dark and depressing life.
I can never do anything right, its always "do this" and "do that," when can I just say "no?"
Let go of all my pain, and wash off all my sorrow,
Wash away all my dirty sins.
Why cant people love me and mean it?
Why can everybody be happy, but leave me sad and depressed?
Why can't I just speak my mind and know that people will listen?
Why can't my own father say he loves my, and means it?
Why cant this stop? Or will it stop?
Why can't I be like a caterpillar, and break from its cocoon and fly away as a butterfly?
Why can't I just be me?
Why? Why? Why?
I don't even know what I am anymore.
I don't even know what i would be if I was my self.
I've never been my self.
Why?
I wish that I couldn't ask why, but know why.
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