I wrote this a couple of years ago out of frustration with people telling me I was too young, or too pretty, or too talented to be depressed. I'm not looking for comments; this is just one song I wrote that I never intend to record, but the funny thing about music is that it isn't finished until you share it. You can't hear the melody, obviously, and I doubt it would help to include the changes, but since I won't record it, this is as shared as it will be, I think.
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You glance, or look, or stare at me,
I know what you think you see.
A pretty girl, a happy girl,
A life you wish you had.
But you don't know the things I hide.
You don't know last night I cried.
The lonely tears, the frightened tears,
I couldn't make them stop.
Don't tell me there's no reason to
Always feel the way I do
You're right, there's not, I know there's not
But knowing doesn't help
Please don't go telling me I shouldn't feel this way, it's not that simply, so stop!
I'm not who you think I am.