Why does he even bother... How can one scale a wall when the owner has smeared the surface with oil and grease... How can one give endlessly, and receive none...
If only, there were a little more concern.. If only, there were a little more response.. If only, there were a little more reason... for him to carry on...
What is this feeling of depression? it shouldn't be this way...
It's not the first time it's happened, just brushed away he would be.. A million reasons he would think up for her, why couldn't he just see.
Each time he would return, pretending nothing happened, with hope stronger than before... only to be beaten down, with more disappointment than the last.. He doesn't know how much more he could take, how many more falls he can survive. The guy's getting bruises, faster than they can heal, when is it gonna take his life?
He's just letting the weariness take over... He has lost all manner of hope... He can't see any glimmer of light, finds himself in a cold dark room... Let him rot, not that he cares, when will death come? He hopes it'll be soon...
Such a sickening day... such a sickening hour... such a sickening time... such a sickening feeling... Fuckit...!!!
