My heart as pure as gold
My face a pleasure to behold
I was very often told.
Then I started to grow old.
My feet remained cold
My heart harden like gold
My face, my eyes
Grey and sad,
Because of the difficult years I've had.
With isolation I am now glad,
For company annoys me and
I then become infuriatingly mad.
The one I thought I loved
Depresses me and causes me
Pain.
Now I have a hole in my soul,
A dream of going back to the place
Where nothing I had, but to me
That's a lot better than anywhere
I've ever lived or anyone
I could never love, all because of defeat.
« return.