What used to be, is no more
There is nothing that can give back, what was lost
I feel as if the coldness, has permeated a lot.
No heroic saving is heading my way
Things that were placed in my path are poignant and often, I am afraid
Was this the comeuppance for my love? Do I hold the actual heart grenade?
I see others with circumstances, as such is my own
They often wander about in frantic motion and sometimes head back, home
I wonder how they cope, how they make it, being back there, again
Is this possible for myself, to do the same?
Am I the only one playing in this stupid game?
Did I, in my own infinite wisdom of pain,
Arrange a game
One I play alone, one that has no meaning
Or are the real players the ones who are deceiving?
Twisted up in thoughts of what might had been
It keeps me replaying this, over and over again.
Like I would ever have any willpower at all
To quit being in this sort of game where one only falls.
Even if I was the one who created it,
I cannot understand nor see a way to quit.
If I am merely a pawn in this game, shame on the players for treating me like a nit wit.
Win or loose I must make sense of it all
Before time actually runs out, y’ all.
Mws R Writings 