In my forest of thought,
I seem to be going nowhere in life,
Just like in every other life.
At the end of the day, I wonder what I'm good for.
I feel like nothing,
I feel like I'll be nothing
For as long as I shall live.
I think of where I am,
And how I'm doing,
Which isn't so well,
And I think to myself,
Where's the love?
Where did I go wrong and
Why did I go wrong?
There was never a fighting chance for me.
I lay in bed for 3 hours at night,
Staring at the ceiling,
Pondering life,
Looking for answers,
And receiving a beating.
Asking questions in this family
Is forbidden,
As is voicing your opinion,
Being right,
And screwing up.
None of these things are allowed.
If you fail you better be
Half dead and bleeding crucially.
At the end of the day, I wonder what I'm good for,
And I see that I am good for nothing.
Just empty talent that will rot within this person.