Maybe I am also a fake, a worthless one,
with no delicacy and value, being cast away
after satisfying the illusion and imagination.
And that matters not anymore.
To hell with you, dear.
I could curse, I would revenge, like a vampire
mourning his loss of humanity. But I am not
crazy cuz I am still a weak human being, lost
in self-pity and that's useless. I vowed to follow
the decree of that poet that sometimes total
forgetfulness is higher revenge.
To hell with you, memories.
由 drinker 發表於 September 14, 2003 10:49 PM | 引用