You'll know me as silent,
While ideas keep rushing through my head.
Might think I lost all hope,
But actually I'm not always that sad.
I don't show my inner person,
No matter how hard I try,
I end up being rude again,
This failure makes me want to die.
I can't be the nicest person in the world,
But it's painful to even try to be.
Not only because I fail,
But because some just don't agree with me.
I hate my inner self,
That being with emotions inside.
It makes me such an ass,
That's crying in bed every night.
But there's one question that bothers me most,
Guess it's one for my whole youth:
Is it better to hide reality,
Or should you face people with the cold truth?
Because I can't be a nice person if I don't know that.
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