I FEEL MISERABLE.

I'VE BEEN LIVING A LIFE IS NOT MINE.

I PRETEND TO BE FINE, AND PRETEND TO BE NICE.

I TRY TO COLOR ME IN PINK, BUT THE PAINTER IS STRANGE, SOMEONE WHO IS NOT ME.

AND STAY COLORED IN THE SAME GRAY DYING, ALONG WITH MY LIFE.

WE ARE DYING EVERY MINUT, DAY AFTER DAY.

FEELING NOTHING BUT JUST WATCHING HOW LIFE IS PASSING IN FRONT OF ME.

I'M JUST AN SPECTATOR. MY STIFF TONGUE DOESN'T ALLOW ME TO SAY A WORD.

I'M MY WORST ENEMY, I SAY I'M ALIVE NOT THAT I LIVE.

THE WHOLE DIFERENCE IS... MY LIFE IS NOT MINE.