You presence has become like a plant in the corner of the room.
Stored away,Fading into the wallpaper,
Your owner forgets to water you.
You speak, but are not heard.
Your voice has become a memory,
You try to get out, you try to force your way back into the light.
When you speak you are hushed,
When you don't speak you are wrong to do so.
Why do you bother staying around?
Why don't you find a place where you will be cherished?
You stay and yearn for something better.Such a coward, wake up and find some guts.
You have an opportunity,
But you're too afraid to take it.
Oh, there is someone, someone out there,
Who will listen to your voice,
And love it like sunshine.
So why then, do you stay?
What excuse do you have this time?