Sometimes it’s like I’m invisible and don’t matter.
If life were a painting, I would be an unwanted splatter.
A dark world with no form of life around, 
A barren wasteland is all that can be found.
No place for shelter or to hide.
Just lay on the ground and chill outside.
In some ways, everyone’s life is controlled,
Having to take this overtime, I can’t uphold.
I know I can’t take this for long.
But I’ll be patient to find somewhere to belong.