why do people act the way they do
honestly i can't understand it
but then again i don't even know why i do the things i do
i think i'm thoughtful when i'm alone with pen and paper
and i think i'm artistic when i put paint on a canvas
spending all of my time and money into trying to become myself
when i thought i already was

why does she get angry at me
i don't get it, what have i done wrong
probably a lot of things
i did tell her i hate her when i was twelve,
even though i wrote her a letter and drew her a picture
and apologized every day for the rest of my life
i guess i'll never know why she yells at me

and why does he not like me
i thought he was supposed to since he fathered me
but i guess if one isn't around enough
a bond is never created
maybe that's why i wasn't worth anything,
and he didn't mind pushing me out of the house to make room
for the new woman in his life
i suppose i'll always come last on his list of priorities but i don't mind
but i do wish i had a father

and why weren't he and i born closer
instead of being five years apart
maybe we would have been best friends and
helped each other with homework and relationship problems
i could have seen the warning signs
and he could have seen the ones for me, and maybe
then our hearts wouldn't have so much wear - and - tear