Sometimes I imagine my life,

Like standing in front of an automatic tennis ball thrower

Constantly a ball gets chucked at me

I try to fight back, but it's overwhelming

These balls are what people say or do to hurt me

And the people themselves are the machine

One hits my head, I turn and another hits my back

Or I'll let one get my heart, and I can't understand why it has to be like that

Usually I can stand it, but sometimes I just get so tired

Or I'll make myself mad and get really wired

I'll start picking up the balls, and doing something

But in the end it's still so tiring

So I'll act like its not there, but then one will really hurt

I'll break down and fall, watch my tears fall to the cold dirt

Someone will see me, and view me as weak

They won't see how much I fight, and still manage to be me

People say it will only make me stronger

But everyone needs a break once in a while

I'm not saying there aren't good things, and people to make you smile

But it's easier to believe the bad

And it's easier to just get mad

I just feel so overwhelmed, and defeated

I just can't seem to beat it

I've slowed down the machine some

I've learned to know when some things are just plain dumb

I'm a work in progress

I still let things get to me

But one day, I'll turn off that machine