I wish, so wish I could be clean
Clean of all the evil thoughts I aim at them.
So here I sit, inside the washer machine.
I contemplate turning it on: maybe my soul will be clean.
Maybe upon god's doorstep,
I'll be admired, if I die to be clean.
Clean of the thoughts that His creatures have driven in to me.
Not murder drove me to dark thoughts
Nor crime, nor friends betrayal.
(Ha! If only it were that...)
This was my life that drove me here.
My simple, common life.
Because all they tell me:
"You're a outcast, a weirdo, an oddball, a misfit."
I know I don't fit in,you mustn't tell me
When all let me know, not by yelling, some of them,
But by leaving me alone.
No one wants to be the odd one out,
All of them have friends.
Just because they are not so,
So as I am perpetually.
For I am dark and thoughtful: philosophic.
So quiet and elegant: poetic.
So shy and ugly: lonely.
'So poetic, philosophic and lonely: odd!'
They would say if they heard me say this.
For they do not understand my mind,
more complex than all theirs put together.
So here I sit, alone, inside the washer machine.
This NOT supposed to have anything to do with religion. I know I mention God, but this is not supposed to be religious
/It wouldn't let me take the title "Lonley" so I added /