Words to match a Rose

Dead Men

Tis' a false statement,

When one hears that dead men tell no tales.

I have told few tales,

Few secrets have left these lips,

Few are the ones I have needed.

I hate each and every one of them though.

They lack consistency,

The only thing I am.

I hate their contrast,

Their constant need to be different each time.

That feeling that I'll be the only straight line.

I'm a failure in such a sense,

Why me though.

Why do I walk this straight line.

Each one in my path is one I hold onto,

Until they leap away.

I can't hold anything constant with me.

I walk alone until the end.

Nobody wants to stay,

For it is a truer statement that dead men tell no lies.
As I tell few.