The gates to my soul are full of low
The people I am finding are all ago
Running from me as if I have the plague
I am to blame
I can see the flames
They grow and they grow
Casting the shame
That fills my heart
I do not know where to start
I have tried to befriend
Tried time and time again
Yet it brings me full circle
Still no one to talk to
No one that stays
Just me, myself and I
Are all that remains?
Christopher Chapman 2009 ©
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