Taming Words

• The Fakes •

I'm standing by the lake,
trying to deal with the fake.
I'm standing by the sea,
wondering why you did flee.

I'm standing on the grass,
hoping that it'll all pass.
I'm standing in the city,
contemplating if I'm pretty.

The fakes are all I see
in the world of rights and wrongs.
I think there's something wrong with me,
and escaping their judgement through songs.

You don't have a clue
of the amount of pain I feel.
Judging me out of the blue,
it's the confidence I want to steal.

Every word you say leaves a stain,
not on my body, but my mind.
I, only, can feel the digging feeling of pain,
yet don't tell me to move on and be blind.

You left because I was not enough;
kept beating around the bush.
The process was tough,
but you left me in a rush.

For you, I was a dime a dozen,
your feelings were cold and frozen.
Stop beating a dead horse,
"it's not you, it's me," of course.

You give explanations and lies,
yet they're not valid for the heart that dies
every day to know that you don't care.
Enough, I've gotten my fair share.

It never rains, but it pours.
One day I was all yours,
the other I'm alone.
I became as hard as a stone.