Why are you comparing me to her?
Is she that much better than me?
Am I that imperfect to you?
Why do you keep comparing me, the one,
always alone,
the one,
thrown into a new society with nothing but one person for just a part of the day at my side,
the one called names and bullied 'till tears (?)
with the one,
swimming in experience on both sides,
family and society,
the one,
who is still a kid at the age,
when I lied in my bed and cried myself to sleep,
wishing I would have never existed?
Why?
The fish in the big, wild ocean with the king of arenas?
YOU ARE READING
For Crying Out Loud
RandomCore of real emotions, but with a handful of exaggeration. Everyone needs to let steam of. What about you?
