The Weeping Poet
Me, I'm the weeping poet you see sitting in that swing
Worrying about being perceived
For I think I am what I am not
"Sensitive girl" don't tell me twice
I may be alone, but I've got voices in my head and they tell me what to believe
May be weak, but my emotions run as deep as the blood in my warm veins
I fear the only person who could know me best is myself
So I speak through the music in my mind and the pencil on my notebook
And I speak through the silence I give
For I am what I choose to be
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