Am I Really Sane

You ask me what I think, and before I answer, you walk away, tell me something, do you care anyway? You tell me we need to talk, and before I have a chance, you get ready to go out, asking me to iron your pants. If someone else looks my way, or stops to say hello, you get all mad at me, and a fit you begin to throw. I'm trying hard to figure this out, my brain is really numb, you act like you care, then say I'm rally dumb. All I want is peace, and quiet, a place of solitude, not this circus life, do you hear me dude? I sit,and write my songs, something I really enjoy, then you get mad again, as if I took your favorite toy. My life is a cobweb, so sticky, and a mess, and everytime I try, and change it, I fail another test. On, and on, an endless war, nothing I stand to gain, I ask myself, am I really sane. This is something I made up, not serious...