They say
They say I’m depressing, they say I’m too sad
They don’t know that I’m stressing, that I’m just so mad
They say that I’m a goth, but they don’t know how I feel
They don’t know the pain, that I expertly conceal
They say I’m a weirdo who doesn’t make friends
They say I’m a loser who doesn’t follow the trends
I’m trying my hardest to make just one friend
But I guess that all bad things come to an end
But when is that gonna happen? When will I be free.
When Will I be able to just be depressed me
Without all the comments, without all the trials
I’m walking on insults that go on for miles
When will they stop pushing and start helping instead
When will they stop saying they are wishing I’m dead
When will they stop the teasing, and start pleasing
When will the pain start easing
They don’t seem to care, will anyone ever
I have a feeling the answer is something like never
But I’ll keep on trying untill I get it!