You walk into a crowd and find it to be empty.
Who are you? I am not sure.
At times it's onerous to fight envy.
You think you are a failure.
Who are you? Well, I don't even know me.
People are making their dreams come true.
You live in a nightmare.
Who are you? I don't think it's consequential enough to share.
You're sad, you're happy. You're unaware,
of how to feel.
You're sitting alone yet you stare,
plotting, as if happiness is something you can steal.
Who are you? I think maybe we are the same.
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