You’re … sweet, creative, one of a kind.
You’re the one people go to. You’re the one who cares.
Well… at least that’s what some tell you… That’s what they think.
At home you hear different.
At home you’re told the opposite
By the ones who are supposed to be there for you,
By the ones who are supposed to care.
Everyone at school loves you. Your teachers, they adore you
But It’s the only place you feel like somebody.
It’s the only place you feel part of a family.
Your home life is different. Is it even home at all?
You know what I’m saying. Let me hear it, am I the only one praying?
Praying for a new chance. Prayin’ for a second glance.
Your only want is admiration, but all you get is agitation.
You try to receive anything but the anger, but that’s all you perceive.
If nobody cares about you, do you even exist?
You try to make them see you differently.
You try to make them understand.
But they’re pushing you to your limits. The edge is fast approaching.
All that’s left is croaking.
You wonder what the point is. Hell, you wonder what’s left to give.

You’re at the edge now.

So you decide to hide who you truly are.
You’ve given up trying.
You’ve given up hope,
Hope that they will ever see you differently,
Hope that they will ever love you for who you are.
You’ve given up trying to show them now,
Show them that you are better than what they choose to see.
So now you show them something different,
Let them see you as someone they want to see.
You conform to their needs instead of your own.
You warp who you are for them, but is that ever enough?
So you keep bending, but you’re almost broken.
“Will i ever be good enough?” You whisper.
They ignore every word.
You’re broken now.
You have become who they always wanted you to be.
You’ve lost yourself,
But you have succeeded in making them believe.
Doesn’t that count for anything?