May 15, 2012
By mwurzer4 DIAMOND, Rochester, New York
mwurzer4 DIAMOND, Rochester, New York
65 articles 0 photos 19 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Thou! thy truest type of grief is the gently falling leaf."
-Edgar Allan Poe

I’m sick of all your games
And I’m sick of all your lies,
Of taking all the blame
For every sad good-bye.
You say that love’s an art,
Then why are we making war?
You’re playing with my heart,
So I can’t love you anymore.
Your heart’s gone cold as ice,
There’s no more chemistry,
And I’m tired of playing nice
When your love’s like leprosy.
I’m fighting for my life, here,
No more trying to make things right.
I’m severing all our ties, dear,
And leaving you with your might.
They say that love’s not perfect,
That it has its ups and downs,
But whatever you get, you deserve it,
And baby, you’ll get the crown.
You couldn’t say you’re sorry,
After all, you have your pride.
You say I don’t need to worry.
How can I not when you lied?
I thought you were the one, dear,
My knight in shining armor,
But I’m still fighting for my life, here.
You were quite a charmer,
But the days of us are gone.
I did love you, for a while,
But you’re all no brains, no brawn.
All that’s left is bile,
I can’t help thinking, “What went wrong?”
I act angry, but I’m sad, love,
For all that couldn’t be.
All the good times that we had
Are but memories up above,
And lingering now are the bad,
So despite of all, “I’m free!”

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