Troubles of Mine
Oh sure my world seems to be fine,
but the world inside my mind
is anything but fine.
Im being driven crazy by words
that are unspoken,stabbing my heart like swords
that drive not to kill but drive crazy.
I'm dancing on the end of that. All seems hazy,
its like I am only half here.
The troubles of mine some made of fear,
some of hurt, loathing, and confusion.
My eyes filled with silly illusions
of love, happieness, and false hope.
After almost each day I feel like a dope
that has nothing.
I feel like nothing most of the time
with these troubles of mine.
I hate these troubles of mine,
inside this I worry only paying attention to small lines.
I worry about people I know and they dont even know it.
unspoken thank you's to someone for my life and still they dont know it,
and with that thank you I carry an undying love that is not wanted.
I hate these troubles of mine.
To some my life is fine.
Possibly divine.
The love of mine is so confusing
but no one really cares.
Because they think that I write it down all the time
so then i must always be fine.
I wish everything would just die
this including me.
I can no longer stand this place,
but sadly i must face
it, feeling alone and unwanted.
The answer is simple but,
no action taken to make me happy.
No cuts not even a scar just internal pain
and seeming eternal suffering pangs.
I guess I'm ok for now
as long as someone doesnt die,
I just might be fine.
but the world inside my mind
is anything but fine.
Im being driven crazy by words
that are unspoken,stabbing my heart like swords
that drive not to kill but drive crazy.
I'm dancing on the end of that. All seems hazy,
its like I am only half here.
The troubles of mine some made of fear,
some of hurt, loathing, and confusion.
My eyes filled with silly illusions
of love, happieness, and false hope.
After almost each day I feel like a dope
that has nothing.
I feel like nothing most of the time
with these troubles of mine.
I hate these troubles of mine,
inside this I worry only paying attention to small lines.
I worry about people I know and they dont even know it.
unspoken thank you's to someone for my life and still they dont know it,
and with that thank you I carry an undying love that is not wanted.
I hate these troubles of mine.
To some my life is fine.
Possibly divine.
The love of mine is so confusing
but no one really cares.
Because they think that I write it down all the time
so then i must always be fine.
I wish everything would just die
this including me.
I can no longer stand this place,
but sadly i must face
it, feeling alone and unwanted.
The answer is simple but,
no action taken to make me happy.
No cuts not even a scar just internal pain
and seeming eternal suffering pangs.
I guess I'm ok for now
as long as someone doesnt die,
I just might be fine.