In the wake of the night
i cry for something mire than i have
i wonder why i was born in this world
i wonder how it could be if it was all different
depressing stories i write in my head
am i really going to be suicidal
why cant i write something happy
why does this make me happy
i ask so many questions and get so few answers
how do i stop this madness
why does my life revolve around all of this
