so sad

 
 
 
You give yourself away
You run from simple solitude
Expect a world of gratitude
for your offering as prey
 
You hoped for worlds more
Created castles made of sand
Proclaimed this fantasy your land
Cried when tide came into shore
 
A life is made of pain
And what we do to suffer less
That sweet, sweet kiss and hot caress
Or rubbing of the sore
into our cursed refrain
.
.
.

 

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