I found a book of poems
in a beautiful heart wood chest
And written across its sturdy lid
Was the word "hope", like sunday best

Upon this book of poems
Lay a velvatine writting pen
And vials of ink from distilled life
For writing letters to her friend

When I went to read her words
 I discovered the lock on it
The key she gave that opened her room
Was never the key that would fit

So I put her poems back
I was nothing more than a guest
And with the blood that ran from my eyes
Next to "hope", I wrote the word "less".

All the men I used to love
or close enough
have settled in the fringes
And I no longer have anyone to think of
during love related songs
I’m in a strange limbo
so rare for me
with no one in any sense of reality
taking over my thoughts
I’m almost grasping for obsession
but trying to learn a lesson

I will use your tears
to water my mind,
and grow you a poem
Anytime that you cry

When I was a young girl
I lived in the dream
That said what I wanted
Was waiting for me

A dream filled with beauty
One that's in keeping
With the highest of standards
Set from glossy magazines

Instead I grew up
With inadequate feelings
A life time of dealing
With what I was not achieving

My mind now a cage
With no hope of freeing
Until I learn to say
I love me for me

All because when I was a young girl
They set up my dreams
Told me what I wanted
And took me from me