Tell me...

Tell me what I really feel.


Labeled a saint, a saviour, a good
Others hate me for I conquer and stood,
Thousandths of words, compliments and criticisms,
But one stood out tall,

"You're a hypocrite."
My father spits.

I don't normally listens since a friend stabbed my back,
Grew numb after countless of stabs
Nonetheless, a father's words are heavier than a friend's

Then, I started to question myself...
Am I, really?
How am I a hypocrite?

Will I always be misunderstood?
Even I, myself do not understand at all.

Tell me... am I,
hypocrite, fake as he saw me fit?


© vitor