I think of all the words in me, that never will be said
perhaps one day you'll read them all, after I am dead.
One day when I'm underground, my body will decay
and everyone will hear the words, I never got to say.


All the individuals I never got to know,
because I was too shy, to go up and say hello.
Because I let myself believe I wasn't good enough
Or thought they wouldn't like me and all that silly stuff.


Or what I really think of you, but think you wouldn't like
Or all the people that I want to tell to take a hike.
Or all the words that came out wrong, or were misunderstood
And all the friends I've lost that way, possibly for good.


Or how sometimes it gets to me, that people think I'm odd
Although I feel alien, like I grew from some pod.
And that I want to be myself, but that I don't know why,
what other people say and think, makes me want to cry.


Or how sometimes I feel, that all I want is love
then turn around and tell myself, that love is not enough.
And how I sabotage my life, because I am afraid
then gripe when I must sleep, in the bed I've made.


Or how I fret and worry, about what could or might be
And stress about a future, which I just cannot see.
I wonder what tomorrow brings, if I survive today
What difficulties I will see, what dragons I will slay.


Or how hard it is to overcome, the pain of yesterday
and just how many times I feel, that I have lost my way.
Through life I may be wandering, no compass to be found
But that I have no need of one, as long as you're around.


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