by Mike Gilroy
I hated you for what you have done
You left me, to rot in the sun
You left me, and then you run
You left me, without…anyone.
How does it feel to not feel at all
Mind is a mess, dropping the ball
How will I deal, would you like to guess
I made it out somehow, It’s time to confess.
I run like hell, before I break
My final bow, I will take
Who we are, a human chain.
Never got a chance to say you’re sorry,
Already too late.