Often to regret, often more so to
I ask myself what it means, sometimes ponder
Only to endlessly meander in the realms of the unknown,
In an unforgiving mind that I harbor, and I argue on, endlessly
Once as a child, I dreamt of life
How it would be, to grow, be young, be old
Now the dreams have become a reality
A nightmare at most, if not entirely
Somewhere I see the streak of my childish desires
And wish to sit and watch the sunset
Knowing that the world owes me nothing, nor do I owe
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