I was not always this way;
I wasn't always depressed and annoyingly lonely,
Causing everyone around me to not like me;
I used to be happy.
I miss feeling true happiness, happiness I have not felt in years.
My stepfather is a simple-minded cad,
My mother still unemployed;
I have absolutely no money for college,
And no privacy;
My stepfather looks through my writing and artwork. 
And as for my dreams,
They will never come true;
I will never be an artist,
Or a published writer, or an accomplished actress;
Nobody will look up to me,
And I will never be happy,
Because I am not allowed;
Luck as dealt me a horrendous hand,
And it is only up to me to try changing it.
But can I?
Will I ever be happy again,
And no longer a killjoy?
Only the future will reveal the answers.



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