• Through my own eyes I see a person that I hate,
    Looking coldly back at me with eyes I can't appreciate,
    Telling me all is lost, you can't win, you can't hold her,
    I pick up a chair and use it to shatter that messed up mirror.

    Then I put it back on the floor and into it I sink,
    Surrounded by broken glass trying my very hardest to think,
    Water bottle next to me, I pick it up to drink,
    Pour some on my head to wash away any impurities that stink.

    Yeah, right, like impurities such as hate and pride can be washed away,
    Like the water flowing out of the plastic bottle can take away the pain,
    The hurt of the knowledge that I lost it all with nothing to gain,
    Water falls down from the skies, maybe Someone up there cries, cries out all the rain,
    Maybe He is losing hope too, this world that we live in with vain,
    Vote Obama into the White House, but the hate in the world won't change.

    Speaking of hate, how do people see me and the world through their eyes,
    Or when a mirror was placed between them and the victims of their lies.
    They see themselves in the looking glass only to be in disguise,
    A fake that only they can make, in front of the mirror the original dies.

    I lost my best friend, my hopes, my dreams, I completely lost myself,
    I have yet to lose my life, which is a punishment more than anything else.
    I'm trapped inside,
    My soul and mind,
    My body walks around like usual as my heart is in chains of steel,
    Bound by my fear of seeing the world as it is for real.

    Now I'm home, school is only a few blocks ahead,
    Out the window I see my friends, but to them I am dead,
    I cry some, make it rain a bit on my bed,
    Whispering to myself the words I just said.