I see how much you want me to care.
How much you want me to be aware.
I'm sorry I can't give you that.
There is no way for me to make these emotions show.
I hate being me. Being this person I am today.
Everyone wishes that I wouldn't be so weird. That I wouldn't be crazy, about learning others lives.
Seeing you and the others smiling, crying, and showing any other emotions. It makes me want to understand what it's all about.
Understand what emotions are. What love is. And understand why people can be very calm about mixed emotions.
Seeing you and everyone.
I just wish I had known what to do.
"You don't care at all. You don't know what you're doing. Don't care what you say to others. Everything you do, you just don't seem to care what the outcome may be. I wish you had never been my family. I hope you can find something or someone that will understand."
That was the finally thing you had said to me.
But I had wished that I could care about what everyone is afraid of. What everyone is sensitive about.
It makes me wish that I could show any emotion.
I am sorry for not caring.
YOU ARE READING
Life Of Reality
PoetryPoems. From young to old. Happy to unhappy. Friends to family. Poetry to many lines of words. Only one author to write it all. ×××× Ranks: #27 in meaning
