I’m not impoverished, but I don’t have what I think I deserve.
That’s why I’m always unhappy.

I’m looking forward to something which is coloured by my imagination, but they often turn out to be null.
That’s why I’m always unhappy.

I have a crush on those who don’t love me, and I don’t love those who have affections on me. There are exceptions, but they’re not here and everything has faded away during the endless waiting.
That’s why I’m always unhappy.

People push me to do things that I don’t like, to struggle for things that I don’t need or want. I’m right in being myself and so are they, but they don’t realise that they are wrong when being others.
That’s why I’m always unhappy.