Almost Criminal

August 8, 2010
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The way you plucked me from a tree
Decided I would be the apple of your eye.
Thought I walked on clouds
Because the streets weren't paved in gold.

You built me higher than the mountain peaks
Little did you know I needed fast-food, concrete, oxygen.
Everything that doesn't sparkle
Because I can't live on pretty metaphors alone.

One January day your eyes turned grey
You dropped your pride and saw the pavement cracks.
After all, I'm only human
So why do you make me feel

Almost criminal?

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