Child of this world

I'm the lonely, sad child

Of this cynical world

Where the love demands payment

And true friendship is gone.

Often I wonder why people are cold

As I feel myself turning 

Piece by piece into stone

Setting aside who I am for a dream,

That I'm not even wanting,

But somehow fits some need…

Wish I lived for myself, 

Not for somebody else;

But I'm eager for love,

Some acceptance of sorts

Watching these people all around me

Some who will friend me,

Some who will be mean...

Do I just close my heart to avoid all the pain?

It's so random what happens,

The stories we live...

Yet it's all set in order 

And we know how it ends.

May it be bliss and glory

Or heartache, or hate,

We're all acting this story,

Play our part ‘till the end.

I'm the one that is dragging

I'm the one that breaks loose

I'm the one that can't stand this

I'm the one that feels used

Do we all treasure drama?

Love as much as we hate?

I feel distant and major

I'm above and beyond

As I look down the coldness 

Of some ignorant Gods

They are ants that had power,

Puppeteers of my soul,

For I granted them wisdom

Made them feel they’re above;

I allowed them to rule me

Shared with them all I'm worth.

I'm the cynical  child 

Of this lonely, sad world.

                                    (Denisa Dobrin) 11/1/2011