It seems I'm always on the inside looking out.Trapped inside this dark and lonely cage.Wondering what life is all about.Can't even see beyond my rage. People pass without touch or sound. Staring at my tear-stained eyes,and poking at my open wounds.Walking away as each peice of me slowly dies.They all want to know why,yetnone understand.I'm in perfect isolation behind my pain.When I reach out does anyone grab my hand? No they keep going,labeling me insane.I wonder if it's always going to be like this. Ready to burst but scared to speak. No one is prepared for what I have to say.They'd all stop in their tracks turn weak. I guess I'll always be the one thats wrong.Never comprehend what life should be about, and never knowing exactly where I belong.
