My dreams were laughed at
But my pain is what was praised
A child who wanted to be more
Was told to not try
As my hope died
All I got was them talking about my failure
Comparing me now to what I could never be
Telling me to do what I dreamt in the beginning
So I apply stitches over old painful scars
They open the wound again
To crush my dream
And start this cycle of confusion
So now after all this time
My own dream is the knife
Cutting away at faded failure
Restitched with lies
Uve trained me well how to fail
So used to this feeling
I need this now
Its become my comfort of scars and stitches...
