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I could live forever
if you'd say you'd always love me
but I'm striking out on rations
of your momentary passions.
I avoid pathways that lead directly to my heart
Because they're worn and tattered
Form abuse and neglect
So I quarantined the questions
That lead as turnstiles to these halls
The trust I had to polish these walls
Left with the old management
And therefore I henceforth forsake them
They only lead now to disaster and ruin
Devastation and a poisonous plague
To the rest of my mind
Because the doors were always open
To those who needed it most
They in return used up and defaced
Leaving when I needed them most

— The End —