I have been told by so many that I explain myself so well
That my sense of understanding is so great that they are proud to tell me
It is good that I can understand so well
But what does this do of good for me
If I can't ever understand what others want of me
I always misjudge the situations
And think that something is going good when really I am just stepping on landmines
Pretending the flying limbs are flowers floating in the air
How can I not see that If I am so good with understanding?
I am beginning to doubt if I am ever going to be happy
Because all the happiness I ever had was created illusions in my head
like a puppet on a string I forced myself to dance joyfully throughout a life; that I did not even enjoy
A big smile on my face after everytime I cry
A big laugh though my soul mourns with the sounds of trees breaking in the wind
A hollow feeling of always walking on a path which carries old imprinted footprints from people whom walked here before me
But instead of creating my own I step in theirs; To ignore the fact that my footprints are taking this journey alone when others have been accompanied on theirs