When we're alone I wonder to myself
how someone as breath-taking as you,
with radiance that warms the hearts of all,
could come to love someone as plain as plain can be.

But then I stop and realize
that 'how' doesn't matter.
'How' is inconsequential,
as long as you're with me.

This child whose happiness seems endless
Inside he suffers through life's stresses
Never letting anyone get close to his emotions
He goes about his everyday motions
Smile, fake laugh, and try not to show pain
When inside the loneliness is driving him insane
Wondering if death is better than life
Whether living is worth all of the strife
If you were to look underneath his cover
You'd be surprised in what you'd discover
Not the kid who's spirited and highly beguiled
But the suffering and tortured soul of a child