:

My music is beautiful because of the ugliness of the world I have lived in. 
My art is deep and moving because of all the tears I have cried for so long.
My smile is a reflection of the life I can only dream of living.
My kindness is isn't kindness, but just a mere lack or preference.
I have given up hope,
time and time again.
I have stopped caring, stopped feeling,
so many times before.
I feel useless and over rated.
I feel used and unwanted.
Like a leaf in the wind, 
I'm only a momentary beauty.
And if I'd wither away,
the tear will soon sop flowing.
And if I wither away,
I may soon be forgotten.
Does anyone care?
Nobody cares.
As always, 
I am all alone.