Some people you just can't save.
Warped by the weight of years.
Each scar you bear tells a story
That no one ever wants to hear.

Whatever kindness you receive
Is cruelly snatched away.
You wonder if the momentary joy
Is worth the hell you pay.

No one likes you, that is true
But oh, you like them less,
You're used to knowing only pain
Punctuated by distress.

When everyone's an idiot,
Or murderous, malicious and mad
A little snark can make the day
Just a bit less terribly bad.

Some people you just can't save.
You've always known it to be true,
But in the end, when death draws near
The same is true of you.