Don't press your thoughts to mine and pretend they are the same
Don't wind me up and laugh when I cry, and confess 'It's just a game'
Under your bitter and harsh visage, there is nothing at all
No kind words, no bath of creed, no secret stall
Where one can buy the little things, the pleasures of our everyday
Lives,and people, that never stay the same, or simply never stay
Don't talk to me as though with every word I will agree
When there is an us involved it means only you, not me
Don't beg for something that you know will soon run cold
I walk home alone, with the weight on my shoulders, so old
And by dawn, I gently I cry myself into a sorry sleep
With a heart so dim, a stand so weak, I weep, the scars are deep
No real ones, no, of course, pain inflicts only more pain
The ones embedded beneath the flesh, beneath the grain
That I sense so near to me, someone so far
When truly, I dont even know who you are
Don't dream of me tonight in your restless sleep
I wont ever give you that kind of fate to keep
Don't assume that I will give in to the lonely ghost
Of something that will never be, a game, at the very most.
© Copyright 2016 walkingonfate. All rights reserved.
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