As I stood facing a family portrait
nailed to a pale yellow wall,
I saw a girl who was my replica:
She put on a smile and stood proudly
in a graduation robe, posed with two gentlemen beside her
and an older couple in front.

How could I belong in there?
That girl in the portrait must be a mistake
It's just a group of strangers living under one roof all along,
void of feelings, warmth and love.

I shouldn't belong in there
I grew up with a broken soul-
sadness and loneliness filled me whole;
pain and tears had taught me to be strong-
yet my heart's shattered
from time to time, in repeated cycles.

I belong to nowhere;
perhaps it's just a coincidence.
Whoever put that girl there
should paint another prettier girl
to replace her.