I want you to see me,
I want someone to know my story,
But there’s no one,
Just empty words and empty stares,
With empty love and empty cares,
I sit alone and am alone,
Just one person to listen to me,
Just one to say my story is worth something,
Yet you stand afar,
And lecture on,
Like everyone else you look right through me,
To be someone,
I’ll never know what that means,
Not until someone sees me,
Why do you expect that to be someone else?
Why can’t it be you?
There is only one type of day you’d see me,
That would be the day my desk was empty.