Why do we always complicate, every single day.
Holding back the words we truely want to say.
Why do we always speak our minds, whenever its to late.
And in the end we blame the other to be the one to hate.
Why do we always complicate, every easy thing.
Embarresed for the songs we really want to sing.
Why is it so hard, to stay and be ourselfs.
Instead of joining others, just lying on their shelfs.
dedicated mind
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/why-307/
