Walls


Sitting here on my own feeling sorry for myself
Why is it my fate in life to be left upon the shelf?

I know my history plays a part - I trust way too much
I need caring, love, a hand to hold, someone's gentle touch.

But every time I let down my walls the hurt's not far away
And I'm on my own again, never seem to have a say.

Maybe I am destined to be on my own, an island hard to reach
With my walls intact, no bridge to cross, no footsteps on my beach.

Lessons learned the hard way, many years behind me
If there's happiness somewhere ahead it's something I can't see.

I'm tired of tears, tired of pain, tired of being sad
Tired feeling used and unworthy, tired of being had.

Who decides my fate, did I ever have a choice?
Does anyone ever listen unless I raise my voice?

Sitting here on my own feeling sorry for myself
Why is it my fate in life to be left upon the shelf?

I know my history plays a part - the nightmares are still there
All I need is love, a hand to hold, someone to really care.

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