happytreefriendluver

So, you think I'm a failure.  You sneer at me from behind the safety of your newspaper, dumbly believing I can't see the disdainful looks every time the paper dips.  You brush a speck from your cheaply made suit as if it were a Gucci original, all the while, eyeing my ripped jeans and t-shirt like I'm wearing a potato sack.  I'm a failure to you; my tattooed skin a waste of flesh and my freely beating heart's pumping wasted blood.  I'm a runaway, a layabout, a drain on your high society.  I'm everything you never want to be... and you're everything I'll never let myself become.  So w