Why do you talk about clothes when there's more on your mind?
Why do you go on as if nothing is wrong
But still feel hurt that your friends are so blind?
Why do you want more when you know you can't
Because what you are looking for you never find?
Why do you cut your skin on the surface
When the pain is so much deeper inside?
Why do you consider death instead of life
But still never do it even though your life you can't abide?
Why do you feel that whoever said life was for living,
Well, that they lied?
(c) 2002
L. Brown