It’s rather cruel this life we live in black and white, and colour,
The more we have the more we give, the more that we do suffer.
The more we learn the less we know, Oh, the irony of knowledge,
An unfair joke, a punchline that we refuse to acknowledge.
I’m grieving and I’m sore and I don’t know what to do.
The life I thought I’d have has slipped away from me, it’s true
I’m mourning over something that I never really had,
Except for in my daydreams and imagination… sad.
My heart feels bruised beyond repair. The cure I do not know.
No bright future just despair and loneliness and woe…
It all seems rather bleak to me. I’ve waited long enough.
I think I may give up now, all that crap romantic stuff.
I know I’m only young ‘cause people tell me all the time
But in my heart I feel as old as hundred-year-old wine
Sitting on a dusty shelf wondering why I’ve been neglected,
Getting weary with the world and sick of being rejected…
You see! What happened was that I came to a realisation,
It turns out that he doesn’t care, a feeling falsification.
I was blinded to this truth, his lack of reciprocation,
My love, an unrequited (uninvited) infatuation.
The words were never spoken by him, the feeling not made clear
But his actions, or really lack thereof, confirmed my deepest fear.
He doesn’t care for me in the same way that I do him,
He probably never has, he just played me on a whim.
So now I’m at my senses, clearly I need to move on!
I look forward to the moment when thoughts of him are gone
And to let go of the belief that things might just work out.
I fooled myself, an easy thing to do I’ll never doubt.
So with this breath, these words, this text, this poetic finality,
I leave the hopeful lust behind, I set my own heart free.
It’s wonderful, the peace it brings, a mind and heart in health,
And the next step in my journey? To learn to love myself.