(This is not a poem, it's more of a soliloquy.)

I want to be a person like you, can't you see?

But I also want to be a person called "me".

It'd be better if I can go and do it.

But then, would that really be me?

It's like a distant dream

The way I am, someone like me is better off dead.

With someone like me being alive

It causes misery to a lot of people

And if, by any chance, I get wiped away,

No one would care, no one would notice

Well, it was like that in the first place.

No matter what, it would be a loss on my side.

Which would be better, no one caring, or no one noticing?

It's the same either way.

In the end, everything will end the same way.

The "Me" made out of nothing will be blown into ashes

Since I'm nothing more than a disgrace.

 If I'd live this way and you'd wipe me into gray

Hundreds of millions of people wouldn't change at all

With something stopping me, maybe that's my chance to flee?

You facing me I cannot smile but just move on