Factory waste

I might be the result of a product
That was never finished
A thought that I really can’t conduct
But it’s my conclusion of these feelings

You said it yourself, somewhat
Maybe I just interpreted it like that
Wasn’t it a bit harsh?
Enough with all your trash

Don’t mind me, step on me a bit more
You want me to the ground
You try to make my psyche sore
And you hear my pain as a terrible sound

And I guess…
It’s just a matter of time
Before I will be numb
And dead inside

My hair is turning gray
My eyes are dry
Will I ever have enough courage
To say goodbye…?