I don't like how I look,
I don't like how I feel,
I don't like how I move
And I hope I'll like it somewhere.

In the freckles,
in the fate,
in the sunburn that won't fade.

In the job I can't maintain or the Knowledge I won't obtain.
Emotion's depth expired,
And lungs shattered.
Problems, problems,
I haven't fought them on my lone.

One day.
It has to be soon.
Or else I, too, went forth.