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If ignorance is bliss, then where is my bliss?
I'd been alone for as long as I remember,
Friends are just a fragment of my imagination, leaving me behind as they become popular,
I know nothing of what people say, nor do I care any longer.
My life, to me, is considered a lie,
A truth that will never be discovered.
I lived not worrying about anyone for a long time,
I want to have it stay that way,
I wish to say ignorant,
But why don't I have the bliss other ignorant people receive?
Why do I end up in tears at the end of the week?