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I don’t remember living In a cupboard under the stairs, Or growing up in a forest Surrounded by friendly bears. So how come I feel so weird? I find it hard to make small talk I always want to be the best. Maybe I should go public And write LOONEY LEZ on my vest. It’s just that I feel so weird Asking for help is something That doesn’t come easy for me. I revel in negative thinking It’s hard just to say “wait and see.” Why do I feel so weird? Exam results must be perfect, Or failure’s the name of the game. Family meals no less than a triumph, Are more than a reason for blame. It’s no good. I still feel weird. Life doesn’t have instructions, Or a map to show you the way. No one will give you a medal, For beating yourself up every day. Life doesn’t have to be prefect.
16th January 2002
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