More of the same

There's a girl,
sitting all alone,
reading a book,
no one else at home

See here the stain,
there against the wall,
the paint's lighter there,
it's where her shadow falls

She's reading a book,
a book she's read before,
books are her friends,
she's never had anymore

There's a party going on,
somewhere across the street
She doesn't know where,
but she can hear the beat

Friends arriving,
shaking hands,
having things to say,
she doesn't understand

No one really knows her,
at work they know her name,
they know that she works hard,
but that isn't quite the same

she's one of the lonely,
they've slid between the cracks
they're lost and forgotten,
no one has their backs (I don't like this line.)

No one knows about them
they're lost and alone,
and no one cares about them,
they sit in their homes.

They're wasted lives and
wasted smiles
and wasted hopes and dreams
and no one knows or cares.

No one knows.
No one cares.
No one knows.
No one cares.

This isn't working. By the time the weekend rolls around, I'm so exhausted, I'm useless. And then, I'm supposed to do all the things I didn't get done during the week, except that I don't. I just sleep instead and Saturday morning, I start to get sick and have to flood the cold with vitamin C juice (pineapple, orange, grapefruit, w/e) and then by Sunday, I'm okay, but I didn't get anything done Saturday and I'm still exhausted because I couldn't sleep Saturday night. Sigh.