AN: Just a sad litle ditty about how if Santana thought about or wrote poetry, these would be her thoughts when she was lost and knew what she wanted, but was still stuck in a rut, while also missing Britt. Probably a load of crap, but these were my thoughts of the day and I thought I'd make them San's too. Definitely a load of crap. Oh, well, who cares, let's go. Meh.
Drowning here in my own self pity
When will someone help me sing my little ditty
The one that helps me move into the light
Free of these chains that keep me out of sight
Chains of my own making, yet I can't break free
Please someone help, help me me to be
The one I'm meant to be in this all-too-long life
Help free me from these chains, so I can take flight
I've had enough now, so darn it all to he'll
Always want to cry, but keeping face well
I hate this life, I hate I can't be better
Wish I didn't just give up, wish I was a go-getter
Wish I knew what to do and where to let myself go
Wish I could hear a yes when everything is no
Wish I was more exciting, wish I wasn't such a bore
Wish I made my dreams come true, wish I could be just MORE
Wish I could be more for you, wish I could be more for me
Wish I could be more for the "we" we could be
But oh, what the hell and what can I do?
Except stop moaning my own boo hoo's
Cos they're no more important than yours or theirs
So now I'll just shut up and pretend that someone cares