Why are you still here?
Why did I make you cry?
Why is it you still seek my approval?
I made a fool of myself.
This is your song.
Why must it be sad?
Why haven’t I got any feelings left?
Why can’t I try?
I loved you too much.
I’ve become too comfortable.
With being no one.
_________________
All that's left is guilt. And a bottle of wine. The one I hated and you loved...
Subject: Echoes 
Tue Oct 30, 2007 8:11 pm
