A man walks out,
But I walk in,
The path of a stranger,
My only kin,

The man was I,
But not anymore,
I'm not that person,
I'm not anymore,

The man goes to cries,
I join him there,
We come back together,
We realize we care.

I can't help but give,
Nature beckons me,
To give it a try,
Responding with glee

I give and they take,
I'm never enough,
They don't understand,
I'm not all that tough,

They call out for me,
Afraid to appear,
I hide in my mind,
And shed not one tear,

I hide away from,
The people I know,
But people I don't,
Are why I don't flow.

Can we live a hate stronger than love,
Where love comes fast and goes above,

When all we feel are sadness and regret,
How can we live without dying upset,

Can we love at all without sating our hearts,
With empty tears, our soul entwined parts,

Can we live,
Night after night,
When anguish and sadness,
Give others delight,

My path was made,
When I began,
To picture myself.
As only a man

Twas life in me,
It fled long ago,
And followed its own,
For highs and lows,

It killed and pleased,
Itself in me,
And midst all the pain,
It smiled with glee,

I've tried to stop,
The pain intense,
For all that I've earned,
It never relents.

I am haunted:
Not by poltergeist,
but by my unlived lives.
Parallel universes
won't ever speak,
they took an oath
to keep from me.
I have words and voices
humming in my head
that will never be met
outside of my bed.
I have to accept
I cannot have it all,
I have to accept
knowing nothing at all.

Emotions are flying,
They ******* and burn,
They leave my heart open
To anguish and scorn,

My loves hide away,
From me for a time,
To save them from pain,
And give me my rhyme,

They pry my heart open,
And force themselves in,
Not knowing what comes,
Know not of my kin,

They try all they can,
It's never enough,
To keep them from pain,
Through times all but rough.

Is there a chance,
To douse all my tears,
To show all my friends,
My doubts and my fears,

Is there a chance,
That they will all care,
Or will they just call,
Say, "life is not fair",

Is there a chance,
Of a life of pain,
Will I resent to,
All of their disdain,

Is there a reason,
To cherish my life,
When all that I feel,
Is anger and strife.