Tomorrow
I will still be the same
as always.

Laughing and
trying to joke with you.

I always knew
the things we feel
are different.

But since you
showed up in that dream of mine.

I haven't been
honest with you
at all.

I know it's okay
if you don't need me,
but I always wanted to try
and help if need be.

It's hard for me to do it
without making mistakes
and I wish I could hear you say
"it's okay".

You might never know
how I feel,
but it's better this way.
I'll keep doing my
best
every day.

So, I know you don't need it,
I just don't want you to feel alone.
Even if I'm only me,
I can at least say
you're not on your own.

You might not ever see this,
and I don't mind,
But if you do,
please just know
I only want you to be fine.

I want to
give you a reason to
look my way.
I want to do
something,
anything,
and yet I have nothing
to say.

Surrounded by
so many people,
I've nothing special for you.
And even though I'm here,
I'll never be special
no matter what I do.

Everyone is always
hanging out all the time.
Everyone's always smiling,
and my envy's a crime.
Finally, I realize that I'm letting
slip by
the things that once
were mine.

Everyone is always
hanging out all the time.
Everyone's always smiling
as I watch from behind.
My inferiority
leaves scars on mind.
One day, I want your laughter
to finally complement
mine.

Everyone is always
hanging out all the time.
Please,
can your time
be mine?

Every day,
is the same.
The sun rises,
and again I'll face
the onslaught of pain.

Caught in a rut
of endless unhappiness,
it seems again
I'm stuck.

If every day is the same,
rife with suffering and woes,
a person like me will never truly have
a "tomorrow".

At times like this,
drowned in misery
and suffocated by the night,
I wish I could hear you say
"It's alright."

To ask you to recite it,
I couldn't bear.
Yet still,
I yearn to hear.

Deathly afraid to be troublesome,
I stay silent,
while the pain in my chest
grows violent.

I could never
be someone I'm not,
and everything I do
is for naught.

I can't be
someone I'm not.
Knowing my futility
is leaving me distraught.

For you to notice me
is what I want, it seems.
But I could never say so,
and it will remain
a dream.

I can feel it,
I'm running out of time.
Someone will come 'round
and never again
will I cross your mind.