I’m trying to find something worth yearning for
Conscious and alert
When will you walk through the door?
Cause writing to you is such a bore
And I’ve just realized something more
I’m not in love but in a pitch of dirt
Emotionally withdrawn, and physically
I am filled with empty embraces
While cold hands with cold hearts
Lead my hallow feet
These are undying words of love
Decided that life has no purpose
And that all is make believe
You, created the life I live
Everything is a thought imagined by one
Lived and followed by all
Amazingly made to believe that…
You and I were even capable of love
When really, Mr. Thorn
I am not your Mr. Fox
But just a man
Physically stuck in a box
What is the point of this anyhow?
What is your call?
Do you love me enough?
Can you conceptualize my thoughts?
Cautious and reserved
I am your undesired love