When others look at me,
They see my shell,
And so few, see that living part,
In the center.

Some amuse me,
Others help me,
But all the time,
I'm there by myself.

Why don't I tell them?
Why don't I help them?

If I was alive, I'd open my eyes,
And see that my pathetic problems need to be put on hold, and everyone that I know, I need to help.

I found out that my sister died,
And all the wasted time I spent on myself.
I should have been closer,
But it's too late, it's too far gone.