Thursday, February 19, 2009

Nineteen

Anticipation leads to nothing
You build me up to tear me down
I have once more, been forgotten
Beaten, defeated, on the ground

And who guards where I'm meant to stand?
How many? Many more!
So foolish for me to believe
It would be me whom you'd adore

What goes up, they say, must come down
You are my heartsick sin
Like I've done so many times before -
Will keep it all within

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