There is a place,
that is so green,
though it never rains,
or so it seems.
The sun it shines,
there everyday,
the skies are always,
blue not gray,
Oh is this place,
part of my mind,
or are my eyes,
just partly blind?
There is so much,
I cannot see,
their ups and downs,
they’re just like me.
But I still dream,
on cloudy days,
of somewhere else,
the sun has stayed.
It seems the grass is always greener,
on someone else’s lawn.
The sun is that much warmer,
just a little futther on.
It seems like no one else has problems,
and I’m the only one.
The only one with work to do,
when everybody’s done.
This surrealistic tragedy,
that shines on all my woes,
and what makes it hurt most of all,
is no one ever knows.
No one knows my fears,
no one feels my pain,
no one sees my tears,
to them I seem so plain.
Of all those years I’ve lived,
and all those years remain,
you know nothing I’m going through,
but judge me just the same.