It's a path we walk,
Whenever we feel alone.
When we don't want to talk,
But just want to go home.

When it rains,
It rains on me.
The wind pains,
It hurts to be me.

I hate the cold,
Yet it loves me.
It always loves to hold,
Tight, surrounding me.

I wish I was better,
That I didn't have to be me.
My life's so bitter,
I wish that I was free.