The same stuff that I’m made out of-
They know me so well.
Because when I cry
So do they-
They know that I search for Solace
And they send me disguises to help me mask over the pain.
If only I could
Into the sky.
Maybe then I’d be reunited
With the Force that bothered to create me.
And I’d ask why it also created pain.
Maybe then, I’d get the explanation I deserve.