Nothing of it is beautiful
It is all meaningless really
While the story stays the same
Only the characters change.
One is stuck in the past
Where we had what we wanted
Because all we wanted was what we had
Within one another.
Another likes the mystery
He shrouds himself in silence
Quieting only the voices
That tell him
Maybe he should stop
Playing.
One has her heart
That he carefully looks at
From time to time
But refuses to take.
I smile as I walk around
Because none of them are close.
They are all so tragically far away
It is like they are a ghost.
They say what they want
But never what they must
The one thing they have in common
Is clearly my lack of trust.
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