Will there ever be a day,
when people understand what I say.
Even you don’t seem to understand,
And I can’t tell you why you can’t.
no-one takes my complain for real.
They can’t see , They can’t know, what I feel.
They can’t see the pain inside,
They can’t see I’m scared of the light.
Every day, it is harder to get out,
All the sounds are to loud.
And even little beams of light,
for me, they often are to bright
Every day I’m hiding in my bed,
I’m not more than, a sort of living dead.
You’re the only spot of light
I want to have by my side.