Oh, I know you’ll leave
Maybe not now or tomorrow
It’s a guaranteed fact I’ll surely believe
And never doubt because
You’ve stayed long enough to fly
I would never try to drag the days
Al my mind
‘Why can’t you talk to me sensibly?’
Here goes the little voice,
‘They’re sick of you
Dressing them up with your identity.
They’re sick of your mere presence.
Save yourself and pronounce your loss
I can make them feel not loved at all’
Maybe you’re right.
I’m not even capable of keeping things,
More yet of people.
I’m not able.