TIMES

It's times like these when you just feel like crying,
And on the outside you look fine, but the inside is dying.
You think to yourself "what has happened to me? 
Why is my heart all bound up, not free?
Did I do something wrong, did i commit a great sin?
Why is there just no way I can win?
No one will help me, no one will be there...
No one will listen to the feelings I share."
And as you sit there, your head hanging low...
You shake your head and all that's said is no...
No to the feelings of anger inside, 
The feelings that you must now try to hide.
And you press your face up to the pillow in hand,
And dream of the beach, the sunset, the sand...
All the good times you've had before you see,
You then have a longing there instead to be.
As you cry yourself to sleep later that night,
You tell yourself "next time i'll put up a fight. 
Next time this won't happen, just you wait and see...  
Next time everything will be fine as can be."  
But inside your head, your stomach, and heart
You know the next day will be the same from the start.