They have no meaning,
Sometimes they rhyme.
They mean the same thing,
Though said in different times.
Sometimes the most awful things
Is not what stings,
It’s the pretty words
That don’t have meanings
that hurt the worst.

What’s life?
It's biting my tongue
Instead of my food.
What’s life?
It’s trying to find the answer
But ending up with more questions.
What’s life?
It’s the suffering all around
But being beautiful still.
What’s life?
It’s sitting here
Thinking, less avoiding.
What’s life?
I’m living but I don’t know;
So I laugh when I think of death,
Because why do I even phantom,
To try to know it all
When I am not even dead?

I do not beg for forgiveness
I know you are better than that,
I work instead
To help or try to understand,
And wish that my little outbursts
Don’t cause much damage
Please treat me then, like a child,
For I have yet to learn
To not be as wild;
I mean not to scare,
Can I hope
Would I dare?

When he tries to help me
I’m like a mine bomb
About to off
And him being the victim
Will be blown into pieces

And he steps right onto
Those bombs.