Some days,
When everything goes wrong,
And I don't know what to do,
I feel useless;
Like a broken toy,
That no one wants,
Used and beaten.
Or like the wind,
That flies away,
One that no one notices,
And disappears over time.
Perhaps I shall disappear,
Or will that strike fear
In hearts of those who care?
Like a rose,
Seeming insignificant among the others,
But cried for when it falls.
But no, I am not a rose.
For roses are beautiful,
Proud and vibrant,
Each one unique.
But I am not any of those.
I am not beautiful,
Or the most unique.
My shyness is blatant,
I blend with the others around me,
Not wanting to be seen.
At these times,
I feel the most useless.
And I think it'd be better,
If I was gone.
Then maybe others will be happier,
And I guess,
I won't be so useless after all.