that question lingers again,
when im trying to attain,
the memories of the past,
but the years were too vast,
to even remember that inquest,
but i have a society to rest.
it will always remain the same,
me burning in the flame,
it bruising me blue,
of thinking is it even true?
I'll blame myself again, or
depreciate my fate,
but it was only me as a bait.
as i try to finally recall,
i remember it all.
"the question was why not me?"
"why don't i get to be glee?"
but the answer will remain the same,
"you don't have a name,
how can an obscure get a happy ending?
no ones there to be defending,
you should already admit defeat"
but how do i tell them i don't like to be incomplete.