Home Isn't Real

How can you put what you feel into words
When it's treated like a joke or a scam,
It's always manipulation or fake,
And you don't even deserve a friend.

And they were there once,
All the adults do say,
But if you were there once,
Why do you treat me this way?

I just want to be understood,
But I won't say it aloud.
It's too cliche and pathetic,
And I am much too proud.

So that's why I sit here crying,
Trying to hold it all inside.
Writing a poem, my last release,
Thinking of all the other times I've cried.

Why would you try to explain the truth,
When you're just ignored and put to the side?
Is it because I'm too old, or because of my youth?
I'm done; I've tried and I've tried.

And you'll see the comment on this post,
Another falsity and lie
I'm so tired of trying,
This is why I don't cry.

Inside there's a monster,
It's eaten me whole,
But it hides behind the smile,
Even though I'll stumble, fall, and roll.

They say that my Savior felt this way,
I do think He did.
But He's up there, and I'm down here,
And I'm only just a kid.

I don't have what I need,
And this'll be read,
And people will sympathize,
And it won't mean a thing.

How can you say what you feel
When it's treated like a joke or a scam?
You'll shuffle your feet and feel incomplete,
And into your dark hole you'll cram.

Seems like I'm too busy being told what to do
To let go of how I feel.
They constantly give me advice and give me words
And this is why home isn't real.

They'll order me around and threaten me,
With grounding and grades and I'll cry,
They won't listen, they don't care,
And this is why home isn't anywhere.