Wednesday, December 29, 2010


No one to blame for my own faults
Except the me I wish I hadn't been
No one to praise for my own gain
Except the me I never knew I was

And as I grew weary in my pursuit
For the one witness I could always have
I looked at this new version of me
The me I could not have forseen

So with little left to be done
I packed my bags with the memory of love
And the hope to see it again at last,
And moved on and forwards towards me.

The me I might become...

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