My Self

My self-esteem is shot because I never made a choice,
Never found a real friend and I never used my voice,
I may be surrounded by friends, but I am still always alone,
And everything I say makes me sound EMO.

Whining because I am ashamed,
That I never had my spirit tamed.
I’ve never made a mistake, everyone else deserves to be blamed.
Can I lash out at you for all this turmoil I put my self through?
Killing all the love just to find out what is true.

Can you help me, please, a poor little orphan with a thinking disease.
Whose mind is a forest with blood red X’s on the trees?
Can you take me now, how I am? Before I turn into the son of Sam?
Before I die, I just want you to know I’m damned,
And I won’t be smiling down on you when I go,
I’ll be in hell, screaming up at you, with the rest of the writers from the show.