Somehow I always get hurt,
By caring too much,
By giving a damn,
Or not holding a grudge.
Somehow being a good person,
Isn’t the default?
And even when I’m right,
I’m told it’s my fault.
Sometimes you take all the steps,
Go the extra mile,
But if someone’s plain heartless,
You’ll never make them smile.
It’s usually impossible,
Appeasing the callous.
Yet somehow we still try,
Only to be faced with malice.
Some people make you feel foolish,
Question everything you do.
In projecting their insecurities,
They’ll make you get lost in their gaslit hue.
Somehow it’s still my fault,
Even when I’m done wrong.
Because I made the mistake of caring,
And was told I didn’t belong.