Lost
 

I always try to be a friend.
To listen to your anger, happiness and sorrow.
You know I’ll always be there, and that I’ll never move an inch.
It’s almost clear that I’m on the same spot tomorrow.
I’m trying as hard as I can, just to help you through the day.

But then at night, when I’m lying alone in my bed, thinking the whole day through….
About the problems you told me, and the solutions I made for you.
There crawls a feeling in my soul,
A feeling I can’t describe, a feeling I don’t want to recognize….


I think about the conversations we have everyday,
The more I think about it, the more I see….
That during our daily chats, we never talk about me…


I’m trying to understand my own feelings,
But somehow I can’t seem to find them.
I’m so stuffed up with al your sadness and pain,
That while you were talking to me, I lost my self again…..

Heel herkenbaar. Je vertelt meer over alles dan je echt dicht, maar dat doe ik zelf ook vaak. Ik vind het mooi geschreven, maar komt ook doordat ik het herken...