Why do people
Why do people talk
And why are they able to?
I wish
They won't be able to...
And why do people hurt
And why can't they love?
Why can't they just love everybody
Why are people just able to love or hate?
Why is there always something effacing?
Why want people always to have an answer
For all
And for everybody
Can't they just say 'It's like that and it's okay.'?
Why they're talking behing my back?
Why doesn't anybody look into my eyes
Or give me a huge
Why do people just talk and speak
All the time
About things nobody wants to know
And all this cliques
And somewhere aside a lonesome one
I ask myself
Did they ever tried to understand?
Without asking stupid questions!
Did they ever looked into this ones eyes?
And what would they see?
Maybe they would see a lonesome one
self-pity, strange and unsteady
It's this ones own fault
And of course; he's scum.
He's a tick.
Why can't people see just someone
who's may self-pity, a little different and aggrieved?
And why can't they like this person?
Why can't they LOVE this person?
