The Living Dead

You only take what's handed in front of you

And you become oblivious to the livings around you

And you can't remember who you are anymore

But that's okay

You don't like yourself anyway

But people don't understand that

or yourself, for that matter

So when you speak,

People never ever listen

Except for that occasional friend

Who's only there at the spare of the moment

And when you ask them questions

They never have the answers for that either

So you're left with nothing

And it's gotten you confused

But who cares about people anyways?

But still, you feel like an outsider

Cynical, but you wish you could belong

You're rather lonely in this shell of a body

So you want to hang yourself

But you can't do that yet

You heard a voice say

"Peace will be within you"

But why should you care anyway?

He's probably lying to you too