It's an indisputable fact,

We'll never be understood.

We hopelessly cling to a martyr-like being,

Believing in its presence, in its goodness,

only for it to hurt more, as we lie disappointed.

We did this to ourselves. These perceptions that forever haunt us,

Hope that is ready to be crushed, sanity that shrinks.

In what way is it acceptable to cry?

It's pitiful and ridiculed because it seems like we can't feel.

We can't feel sorrow, or loneliness, depression.

How doubtful it must seem!

Are we pretending all this pain?
We want to be heard, we want to cry, and laugh as we WANT.

So, I'm ready to understand the cold logic, that we will never be fully understood,

not all our flaws will be accepted, and all our prayers answered,

If there is only one thing I am certain of,

One thing,

Is that we'll only become stronger this way.