They say they care,
Yet they compare.
Even in despair,
Even when I need repair.
I don’t want to talk,
I don’t want to blame,
Even don’t want to explain,
Even don’t want to understand.
My weakness is weapon thou use,
And shocked when I say loud.
I am imperfect, a shame, a waste,
Yet thou call it care.
Confusing love with hate,
Minstrel is titled a disgust.
I do my part wise,
Yet my victories are fake.
‘Why’ is my existence,
‘What’ is my contribution.
Affection is long dead,
Everything mine is nonsense.
I did it for thy dream,
I did mine sacrifice,
Yet a stranger is better to thou,
And I am thy regret.