Stop Cranking the Tune

Nothing changes,

I try making things better,

Having a positive attitude never gets me anywhere.

Why must I dwell and be a burden,

While everyone else is granted tokens?

The bad pretend and take,

Then, they move on and swim away,

While I fall and carry the bait.

.

So, why bother?

Why finish what I have started?

Everywhere I go, it never changes,

The bad obtain everything,

While I am good and heave the pain.

.

Here, I weep,

Everything is what I have created,

What a lonely and twisted mind,

I live inside my head because she is like me:

I am fed pretend friends and lies.

.

There is something that everyone else sees,

Which is why they all discard me.

I love their feelings,

As it proves that I am forever dreaming.

Here, I sit alone,

All weary, wondering why I try continuing my journey.

.

I write this to say thank you,

I no longer carry the drive.

Nor am I wholesome,

I am a shell that shall never be refilled,

Because when the shell is filled, everyone eats the coat.

.

Please, take me,

And realize that you have my song,

Because I am no longer a filling,

Nor a shell

Just a lullaby that's withering.

I type this nonchalantly,

Not caring if I change my tune.

.

Now, I stare and walk,

I hold no care,

Stop reaching out and asking if I am okay,

My song isn't your issue.

I am the lullaby, and you are the listener

We aren't the same impersonators.

The music box's melody cranks near me,

What pretty lyrics that attune me,

No one else can hear its story.

.

Don't touch it,

Keep away from it,

If you turn the crank, it won't play,

So, do me a favor, and stop cranking my tune,

It no longer replays, hoping that it attracts you,

There is nothing there that you will find,

Since I am the music box withholding the flute.