I'm in a snow globe that you're always shaking.
Look at the glass.
I think it's breaking.

The snow settles around me like my heart in my chest,
As I realize I failed, though I tried my best.

Sometimes I hope my snow globe falls,
so my world comes crashing to an end.

Other time I wish the glass would break,
and I'll be free.
So i won't have to strive for you to be proud of me.

But for now, I'm content
in my cold, dim dome.
When will I please you,
or make you proud?

Who really knows?