It is rather difficult,
Spewing words, trying to make sense.
I cannot find the rhythm to suit me,
Yet, they flow out of my mind,
They appear in my paper.
I see happiness all around me,
Yet I cannot find;
I see the gleaming in their eyes,
Yet I cannot compare mine to theirs;
I am dull,
I am one borne from darkness.
An outrageous statement, indeed;
But from the damage I have dealt to myself,
There's no other way to put it.
I find their joys as they see their faces,
None of them see my torture behind these smiles.
My solitude is pitch-black,
My sadness is joy.
I am haunted by the thought of happiness,
I am comforted by my pleas.
I want help,
I don't reach out.
I leave my resolves unfinished,
Enough to hear infinite censures.
They cannot understand,
The chastity I have found within me;
Because of them;
I hate to see the joy in them,
They make me feel left out and envious,
Yet, I cannot do anything,
I know that joy is within me,
It's just hidden in a deep chasm in my heart,
Too deep I cannot even reach it.
No matter how many tears stream down my face,
No matter how much I cheer up,
I can't erase the sadness in my heart and mind.
I am not a victim,
I chose to be this way,
Don't blame me if my spectrum's not your forte,
No one asked you to understand me;
I am a nobody,
Even in my own life;
I am the one borne from darkness.