• My hair shifts in the lonesome wind.
    I sigh and look towards the ground.

    This is my happy place.
    My visits.
    Oh, so rare.

    This is were I feel loved, Though no ones there.
    Because no one cares.

    No one cares enough to help me out.
    Out of darkness.
    Out of my hell.

    I open my eyes and I'm here again.
    I see you stare.
    I hear you laugh.

    My loneliness continues.
    I sit at my table.
    I am alone.

    My happy place is not here.
    My place was never real.