Tears of The Wingless Angel

The world doesn't need people like me anymore.

At least, that what it seems like.

The world doesn't need guys that care too much nor people who are, to say the least, well-versed. The world looks at guys like me as weak, unimportant, and unnecessary. To care about anything shows weakness, so you have to be coldhearted to survive in this world, and I can't be that way.

I walk this world alone. No friends, no distractions. No anything. I hurt from loneliness, and I'm just looking to be loved, or something. I follow the same coda every single day and get no respect nor love from anybody. People like what I have to have to say, but they don't really care about the messenger. They nod and feel happy about themselves, but they move on with their lives and only see me as a weekly distration from reality.

At times, people take advantage of me, and they don't care about my feelings. I'm just there. There's a person behind these words.

My birthday came and went. Perhaps I'm just too old to matter anymore or something.

Last weekend, I've been in pain and I grew tired. I hurt so bad.

Life is frustrating to me, doing the same old thing, going the same old places week after week. I would cry, but I ran out of tears eight years ago. Life is too fragile, but I can't give up.

Perhaps, the flame within me will burn brightly, inspiring me to fly higher than I could even imagine. Perhaps the destiny I'm supposed to live will finally become a reality. Until then, I look on at these charred surroundings of mine and wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Chronicles.
2008.