As I look out my window into the dark night sky
I often ponder why I bother to still try
Why do I continue to believe in girlish dreams?
Why do I continue to love effortlessly when I’m so damaged (or so it seems)?
Why do I keep hoping that one day I’ll be loved in return?
Why do I give my heart so freely only to get burned?
Why is there no one who seems destined for just me?
why do I love blindly when everyone else can freely see?
Why do I wear my heart on my sleeve?
Why oh why do I still want to believe?
Why do I hold onto to hope that happily ever after still exists?
Why could I possibly believe in possibilities when my experiences have taught me nothing but indifference?
Why can someone like me, who had been bruised so many times still be a hopeless romantic naive to all the pain and lies?
Why is it that the ones who get knocked down the most, are the ones who always have the most hope?
Why does it seem like the cycle never ends?
Why does no one want to ever begin as friends?
Why can’t this world see how easy it could be?
If we all just gave more kindness, we all wore our hearts on our sleeve?
And why can’t anyone else see how amazing I can be?
If you just get past the walls of the crazy person I allow you to only see in me?