You're staring at nothing in the dark.
I can't see what you're seeing.
Inside your heart you're bleeding.
Everyday dragging your scars along with you.
I'm trying to understand, but I really don't have a clue.
Nobody can look into your head.
Most of the time, beeing happy, but feeling sad.
Climbing a wall that doesn't seem to end.
Keeping your head straight, cause you don't want it to bend.
That would be a sign of weakness.
But all the others could not care less.
Offering you help, but you won't accept it.
Maybe later, everything will help a bit.
There will be a time that you can deal with your problems.
Accepting help is not a crime.
There will be a time..