I feel so alone No one cares where I am I feel afraid that If I go missing No one will find me Because no one will know that I’m gone People only talk to me when they see me If they see me It’s difficult to go on this way Because of the emptiness inside, I don’t try to hide People don’t ask Because people don’t care They go on with their lives But I’m dying on the inside Who can I call a friend? Is anyone out there? Searching for me? Caring for me? Who can I trust? Who can I love? But in reality, the better question is… Who can love me?
I try to act happy in front of people, but people don't try to look through the haze. They see what they want to see, a pseudoself, not the real me. The me I show to the world, is a completely different me I show to myself...