Wither

Just enough attention to make
me pretend we haven't changed
The dead bark of that old oak tree
would still bear our names
If I could give you anything
I'd give you the Heavens
But I'm sure you'll want to be alone

Twenty five past two and I'm yawing
It's early afternoon and you're elsewhere
So I dive into another realm 
and pick out flowers you'd like
Keep them close and I'll be grateful
Least it shows you harbour compassion 
But I'm sure you'll let them wither

I'm sure that this is just a way of blocking it out
I'm sure that this is just a way of blocking it out
So I don't face my solitude
I don't want solitude
I'm not sure how I will cope

The End

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