I often think of what I was
Maybe I could've been more
Am I just lacking patience?
Is it something to ignore?
Sometimes I cry myself to sleep
Wishing I could fly away
Into another avenue where flowers won't decay
If only I could start new
Or have another life
Escaping my person that gave me nothing but strife
I'm only nothing but a problem
That can never be solved
By Harvard graduates, professors, even clerks at the mall
I try to run from it all
And hide in my bed
Daily pills that I swallow with pillows under my head
Just block out the noise
But I wish I could hear
A question different from the one that lingers on my mind of not being here
You're my souvenir
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