My pockets are full and anyone could tell.
Thank god they don't point it out,
Otherwise I'd feel like a clown.
Put it here,
Move it there,
Try my coat pockets instead.
My Pockets are full,
now you can see.
But still,
It's best you do not approach me.
For you see,
I would rather ignore it and take it on my own,
rather than someone pricking their hand on my broken pencil.
I know it's not right,
But it's my life.
It's hard enough when you have the need to have all these things in a space,
unneeded,
but believed to be needed because I don't need to believe that not everything is needed...
Including me...
My pockets are full,
It's more than I can handle.
So please step aside,
Because to you I don't matter
The need to feel wanted is strong.
Might as well just whine about it in a site no one knows what's going on in my head at night. All but you. Thank you.
