With each and every passing day,
I wonder if this is the right way.
I call for help, but no one cares.
Everyone's too busy with their own affairs.
So it's like no words ever came out,
And with each hour, more hope turns to doubt.
No one cares that I am alive.
And no one would care if I were to die.
And every night like a lonely dove,
I ask myself, why aren't I loved?
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 2:34am on Dec 25, 2024 via server WEBX1.