Inside

Sat alone, yet sat in a group full of people,
When did my brain start feeling so feeble,
Echoes of them are filling my head
Some of them saying they’d rather me dead.

The pain that leaks from the gash on my skin
Can’t help release the feelings within
People say it will change, say to just hold on,
But I don't think I'll be around that long.

I try to cope, and sometimes I do,
But other times I think that I'm through.
Maybe I might change, and I’m just out of luck,
Maybe the people around me just don’t give a f*ck.

Some say that they would need a shoulder to cry on,
But, honestly, who would care if I was gone?