Umm... so this is supposed to be from A. At first it was about me, then it was more B, and then it got too depressed for my version of him, so it's A. Because you DEFINATELY care. Anyway, I don't own death note, enjoy.
No matter what I do or say,
they keep on thinking I'm ok.
They copy me and what I do
They're more of me and less of you.
or no-
or no-
that's not the thought-
they're emulating what I'm not.
They copy me, a part of you,
I wish
I wish
I knew it too.
Instead of knowing what I'm not.
I'm simply haunted by the thought.
And though I try to hide its face,
it rears,
it rears,
such a disgrace.
A pointless,
pointless
being am I.
How dare I try to be the sky,
the person loved,
the very best,
who stands above
all the rest,
when I am me
pointless and sad,
thinking of all
I never had,
all I never was
and all
all I cannot be.
That's me-
the one measured by what I'm not,
the one haunted by the thought,
the one hiding my terrible face,
the one that's such a disgrace,
the one who cannot stand it now,
the one taking
his final bow.