Are you happy in your ignorance?
A slave to stereotype.
You claim you're not a Romeo,
but I don't believe the hype.
No matter how my words fall out ,
in English or in 'blah blah'
I can't get you to understand,
frustration is a cancer
I wish I could just stop the clock,
grab your head in my hands
and beg and plead for you to speak
and tell me where I stand.
Alone? or just a step behind you,
a thousand miles away?
Can I be with you when I wake up
every b-----d day?
My eyes will come to focus
on untangible junctures
and when I try to say my piece,
my mouth can't form the words.
Because you know and now I know
that I crush all that I hold.
You're a precious tiny butterfly
who's wings are shroud in gold.
I'll leave this be, but please, be free
and i'll refrain from crumbling,
restrain myself from thinking
that this nothing could be something.
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