Running

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Tired of running in circles
Where I don’t belong.
I can’t find my records anywhere
(My name was never written down)
I’m just a face without an identity.

But I’m not complaining.
The police can’t catch me
Can’t lock me up in jail for crimes,
Crimes I did not commit.

So I run,
Endlessly, pointlessly.
But I don’t care.
Because all that’s left of my pride,
Is apathy.

Its just a game
This is not real (It can’t be)
I was never this lost
Or confused
Can the reflection in the wine
Really be me?

One two three
And I walk away
It never mattered anyway
Nothing’s like before.
I’m so much more of a whore.

It’s all a game, (a game of luck)
I don’t really give a fuck
I’m not a part of it anymore
Its game over forever more.

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Written: 22.10.03

A/N: It isnot what I would call decent poetry. Maybe the draft of a song, that’s all it's worth. I’m too lazy to developit now,so if anyone has any ideas, do contribute them.

- ® Pris Yeo ® -