For all her woes I am of little worth and
So should it be that she is such; she toils hard and I'm just a bum
The loud mass that speak and say to her
Commanding, deciding "Do what must"
I am just one who has given unfit heart
In faint voice suggesting "Do what you like"
Heard or unheard I am left hanging
As a care not cared for, evident by stranding through silence
And I alone to myself so quiet I think it just
To go to bed and not wake
Yes embrace the pillows of how I crash
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