Oh dear do you inspire me,
To fall deeper into the apathy.
As the bliss surrounds me,
It makes me want to stay.
But you make it hard,
With all your fickle acts.
From one moment to the next,
Your constantly changing the playwright.
How am I supposed to know,
What is and isn’t you?
If your such an actor,
I guess you’ll never truly find yourself.
How am I,
Ever to cleanse myself,
Of the effects of your mistakes,
While I’m within the wake of your impurity,
Without it leading to utter nothingness?
 Amber Ambitious · Fri Jun 25, 2010 @ 03:00am · 0 Comments |
