sitting on this motionless chair
as i watch her leave
arms tucked in with someone else's
could it be, that she's thinking of me
she reminds me of my youth
clutching on to anything that made me feel real
often i'd find myself devoid of ardors later
people telling me i needed time to heal
i watch her gaze right into another's eyes
wishing they were mine
i'd rather quench my needs with lies
i can see everyone's cheeks grow pale now
it's not the same hour i saw her leave
have i been living the same lie for years
or am i just that naive
trying to look for you in any woman i see
my agony aggravated with this empty chair beside me
what does it take for me to feel things now
attention i say, but to which degree?
-Peace.

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