I’ve spent my life in solitude,
Trapped within my head,
I’ve known so little kindness,
That doesn’t end in dread.
I’ve gone unheard, unseen,
Invisible, indistinguishable from paint,
Ask what someone knows of me,
And the memory is less than faint.
I get asked for advice,
That’s almost never taken,
While others bar me out,
Leaving me a life forsaken.
You might not like my demons,
I know I loathe them with all I’ve got,
But the very least anyone could do,
Is love me for what I am,
Rather than punish me for what I’m not.