You act like you're my friend
But then you go and accuse me
Of being something I'm not in the end
After a single joking slip-up.
All my life I've just needed a friend
Who can understand the values of war
I finally find one, but my heart finds him a liar.
Now again I've closed myself off
From the rest of the world
Only to find in my heart
That my life is just living Hell.
So what's the point of living
If there's only pain and grief?

(I know it doesn't exactly rhyme but I don't exactly care at this point.)