Who wants to be bad,

Always woeful or sad?

Who wants to needlessly care,

About little things not even there?

Who looks in the mirror to see evil,

And still, thinks it's regal?

No one looks at themselves as bad,

If they did, it wouldn't make them glad.

Everyone wants to be carefree,

Unbothered by things they can’t see.

People have a way of justifying themselves,

In their eyes, they are all angels.

Not me, though;

Because I know.

At my best, there's some bad,

And the sunniest days can make me sad.

Even when I'm indifferent and don't care,

There’s a darkness lingering there.

I can stare at my reflection, be the worst,

And ignore the pull of quie...

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