I wish my heart was as filled as my cup
With something happy and warm
Though the cup is slowly draining
My heart remains as empty as ever
No one answers the real questions
The ones you’d most like to hear
What is wrong with me?
What should I fix?
They want to tell you hopeless things
You have a heart of gold
Well how is that?
If my heart is so valuable
Why has no one asked for it?
If I am so wonderful
Why do I always fall short of what I want?
The answers are there
Hidden somewhere in the silence
Somewhere covered by lies
Somewhere buried in deception
And there’s that something
That says “Just wait.”
But waiting is long and tiresome
And gets you nowhere in a hurry
Failing time and time again
Leaves you with the hope of eventual victory
But fail enough times
And you begin to wonder why hope exists
Is it there merely to fuel misery?
Who does this feeling benefit?
Many questions to answer.
None of them ever will be.