We are the ones that are weak, we are the ones who can’t live.
Our lives are to hard, the feelings are to overwhelming,
we have suicidal tendensies, many of us have already cut ourselves.
We have our own way of living, do not talk to us, if you only
wan’t to spit on us.
We are the ones who can see, we do not live in an imaginary world.
We are crying but without tears, We are screaming without sound.
We are running, but we can’t escape, we need a hand, a hand to reach out.
A hand to hold ours, a hand that pulls us out of the darkness and despair.
We are bonded, even without understanding why, we can’t forget.
We are doomed.