"Show"

I hesitate to publish this, because people will assume it's about them.  It's not.  It's a tweet born into a poem late at night in a quiet house, and I really just wish I could write music. 
-------------------------------

"Show"

Everybody talks, but nobody listens,

Same old place, but a new position.

The "buts" and the "whys" and the "What I meant to say,"

I don't really want to know, but I'll ask you anyway.

What I want, what I need, no one really knows,

And you turn me out, run away, when the real me shows.

Take a number, get in line,

It all just takes a really long time

To feel it out, let it out,

make your feelings known.

I think it must be easier

if you let nothing show.

Everybody runs, and nobody lingers,

Same old music, just a different singer.

The jobs, the life, the day to day hassles

we don't really want to do, but always have to wrestle

What I see, what I hear, no one really cares,

And you turn me out, run away, when the real me shares.

Take a number, get in line,

It all just takes a really long time

To feel it out, let it out,

make your feelings known.

I think it must be easier

if I let nothing show.

Everybody hurts, and nobody really heals

Same old thing, but it's not how it feels.

The pain, the joy, the emptiness-

They don't really want to leave, but do it nonetheless.

What we grieve, what we mourn, no one really knows.

So don't turn me out, run away, when the real me shows.