Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading
So sick and tired of all the needless beating
I can literally see the life flash before my eyes
I'm sick of your games
your words of "comfort" wont do anything for me now
now I'm alone, in the silence
with the tapping of soft rain on the window
like the drops of tears splashing onto the paper
smearing the words of what I wrote
the poet who never made it in life
the lyricist who never had the tune to match the rhyme
the pages of my life sprawled on the floor
the book open to the final empty page
its now yours to complete
because theres no intention of continuing
I've given you my heart and soul
what I have left is this book
this is the final chapter
the final page
the final minute
...I Dont Love You Like I Did Yesterday...
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