Why do they do it?
Why do they care?
About what people think
And what they will share?

Are they really judgmental
Of what they do?
how they look,
Is unnatural,
no one has a clue.

Theres no where to hide,
From who you are inside
And theres No where to go,
When the truth passes by.

But they still stand there
And tell themselves lies.
lies that will change them
And force them to cry.

In the end they get bitten
By the truth itself
They're swallowed up whole
And are put on the shelf.
If they would have,
Just been untouched
They're future wouldn't end it
Stuck In a crutch.