Alone

When does reality actually hit you?
When you're standing outside of the local bar,
Smoking a cigarette, hoping, waiting, wishing,
For something to happen.
Anything.

Through all the fake smiles,
The fake hellos,
The fake I'm fines.
The faking in general,
You get this feeling.
Like the whole world is after you.

Nothing you do is right,
Nothing you say is correct,
Your gut gives you these hints,
And you have to go with it.

In the end you know it will be alright,
In the end everything will work itself out.
You can't predict the future,
You can only hope.

Until then, Alone is how you feel.