Once more I write to you,
Hoping you don't feel the way I do.

All my dreams won't ever come true,
Even though they're filled with happiness and virtue.

Maybe I'm cursed to the fullest extent,
And my existence wasn't even meant.

Maybe I wasn't meant to love like everyone else.
Maybe I was meant to stay by myself.

Maybe I should separate myself from the world,
And none of my prayers shall ever be heard.

One day when I slowly die,
I doubt even one person would even cry.

No one would even give me a second thought,
Because all of the unhappiness I had sought.

The only person in the world who loves me is me,
And unfortunately, that's how it will be always be.

(Maybe - July 15th 2002)