they are all gone. they say i'm not what they need.
by Desiree Whitamore
i'm confused and lost, like i'm one floating leaf.
why must i change who i am on the inside?
i am a body, in which a lost soul sadly presides
i may be quiet and shy, but does that make me a snob?
i may not be small, but does that make me a useless fat blob?
why must happiness depend on what they say is so?
they push me in to a dark room, in which my shine can't show.
why must our relationship revolve around your disposition's choice?
i may not be much, but i do have feelings, i do have a voice.
i will always be there, when your problems leave you lost and alone
but for now, i am a soul with an empty prairie to wander and roam
what they say should not decide who we are to be
we are people, but with your eyes you do not clearly see.
the more friends the happier we are, but are they real?
or are a phase that will disappear with only a wound to heal?
go away! i will not! i am a person and my voice they will hear.
i am not what they say, and am only filled with a fear
i am not a shadow, but an individual who knows what is true
but i am hurt by the loss of us, and the growth of just you.