Why am I like this?
Why is it that I cut?
Why is it that I feel these thoughts like a hiss?
I cant help it my brain was made this way.
I cant help that I always feel the need to pay.
I deserve this don't I?
All this pain that forces me to sit down and cry?  
It makes me feel alone like nobody's there.
And every single time I'm coming out worse for wear
Every scar that shows on my arms,
Every bit that shows I've done harm,
It ads up over the long stretch of road
"You'll get over it" the overseer crowed
But you never do.
See people like us we get forced this way, through tough times, poverty, abuse, and not being alowed to say.
To be honest we all feel alone, but we aren't
just look around and really see, show your heart. Look to your idols, look to the skys,
Look to the man that sits there and cries. Find yourself.
By helping