Terrible Man
I fought long and hard on this so called "battleground"
With children who tell me everyday I'm not as bad as the world sees me.
It was nothing against the world,
For it was just a tragedy of some parents who couldn't get their kid
To be what they couldn't be.
Because they did not want me,
They wanted an improved them, but in another body.
-but I'm not.
They wanted a kid who would make all A's since third grade,
-But I never did.
They wanted someone who shared their same faith,
-But I stopped.
They wanted a puppet on a string to fulfill their needs,
-But I cut it long ago,
They wanted some happy child with no attitude,
-But I'm not.
So now I am considered 'terrible' because eyes can go blind,
And miss out on the little things.
The good things.
But with all the little things I did they never added up,
And I always came up short because it was never good enough
Unless it was seen.
If only they would know that good things happen most
When people stop looking.
I'm terrible because I cannot think the same level,
Or maybe it's because I choose what path I want to do.
I'm terrible because I stand up for myself,
But then it leaves me beaten down again.
I'm a terrible person because I built an outer shell,
That was meant to withstand the different forms of hell.
I'm a terrible, horrible person,
Because I know what's right and wrong.
Now and days people ponder my ways
And why I am as tough on myself...
Years and years don't seem to fly by when you're alone.
I get tired of my own reflection,
And the voices yelling at my imperfections,
Which at times makes me just want to hide away,
And find a new place for my mind to stay.
I'm terrible because I have a voice,
So that had to been taken away.
A doll with a mouth sown shut so it couldn't say a word,
But little do some know that eyes tell more.
Yes, it's vague,
But if you look closely enough into a terrible man's eyes,
You'll understand what broke them.
I sit back and wonder how things could have gone wrong,
I mean, I tried my hardest to stay strong,
But fell flat like a pancake when things hit the wall.
Now I see the mental abuse taking control of me,
And every scar that was sealed reopened,
And still there will be an undying hint of loneliness,
As I sit back and wonder how things could have gotten like this...
Because now I'm on the floor,
Coloring outside of the lines
While trying to figure out where I belong.
A little lighter and a pencil became my best friends
Maybe later a mixed cocktail of delusions will be next,
But not for now,
I still have promises left unfinished.
Because everyday I whistle away my blues,
And try to find new tunes to keep me alive.
I paint smiles upon my face so that the frowns of others may erase,
And forget the hardships they may face.
Because this world is just another place with terrible people like me,
And I know how bad it is to be-
It's hard to fight this alone.
I'm not a terrible man,
Just seen as one.
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