Pen Against The Paper

February 24, 2011
I'm the pen against the paper, but my ink's run all out.
Besides, I have nothing to write about except for fear and doubt.
I've got nothing left to say to anyone who doesn't know it.
I've got nothing left to fear, but I don't know how not to show it.
I've got no special ties to promise me to my word.
I've honestly got nothing left, in case you haven't heard.
I'm starting to wonder how I can live my life like this.
I hated missing you, but I loved at least having you to miss.
But that was a long time ago, before I had my nerve.
I used to let people walk all over me; I only lived to serve.
You used to tell me how worthless I was and how much I'd never mean.
But I tried to cover those lies with thoughts I wish I'd seen.
You used to say I wasn't good enough; you critisized all I'd do.
I used to think that I was the problem, but now I know that it was you.
You made me believe that I was a complete and utter disaster.
You forced yourself on me; you told me to call you 'Master'.
I was scared back then and I didn't know how to fight.
But now that I've left you stranded, I thank God I've seen the light.
The only disadvantage, though, to my sudden glory,
is that now I don't know where to go or how to restart my story.
I wonder if there's anyone that would take me in.
Maybe to give me a little love without wondering where I've been.
I hope there's someone out there who can appreciate the best.
Because you, my dear, failed, and it's your heart that's layed to rest.
I don't regret a thing that I've ever said or done.
And I don't regret believing that you could never be the one.
I'm alone now, but it can't last forever.
I'll find my one true love and we'll always be together.
When I remember you, hatred fills me like a vapor.
My ink's run all out, but just remember, I'm still the pen against the paper.

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