Written by: Expressive Child

I walk alone in the backstreets,
with my tired and weary feet...
A shoulder to lean is what I need,
while my heart is left to bleed...
In vanity I am as I look everywhere,
there is simply no one there....
If there is,do they really care...???
Seems like it's all myself to bear..
My soul has long ago been sold,
and foolish I am to get no gold..
Now this world of mine is cold..
and at youth,I have grown old..
I don't really know what love is...
for I have never been kissed,
maybe I am just not in the list..
Does it matter if I say please??
I have suffered for I had no luck,
or maybe I just don't care much..
I have always run out of touch...
cause I just couldn't live to rush..
Hurt and mockery cause me pain,
as it engulfs and swirls in my brain,
while I weep under the pouring rain,
and my mind slowly goes insane...
I despise the fact that I am obtuse...
something that I simply can't choose...
All these years,I've never been a winner,
Perhaps this lifetime,I was born a loser...