I'm like a rich man who scoffed at an orphan girl, five years down the line
Scouring the streets for a loaf of bread with a crazed look in his eye and the heavy smell of drink around him
His eyes are sunk in and his teeth yellow
To anyone he is foul, beastly, a man so unworthy he is but a smidge on the earth
A skid mark under your shoe
A cockroach
But to him the drink smells of regret
The bitter in his mouth tastes like mourning of what he should have said
His eyes hold the sorrow of a thousand memories
A thousand gratitudes he should have made
He is all but waiting for the orphan to glance at him
And give him the fairy tale ending of forgiveness
But the girl has long left the city
He is waiting for a phantom
And the next best thing
Death
Nov 1, 2025
Nov 1, 2025 at 2:10 PM UTC
I'm like a rich man who scoffed at an orphan girl, five years down the line
Scouring the streets for a loaf of bread with a crazed look in his eye and the heavy smell of drink around him
His eyes are sunk in and his teeth yellow
To anyone he is foul, beastly, a man so unworthy he is but a smidge on the earth
A skid mark under your shoe
A cockroach
But to him the drink smells of regret
The bitter in his mouth tastes like mourning of what he should have said
His eyes hold the sorrow of a thousand memories
A thousand gratitudes he should have made
He is all but waiting for the orphan to glance at him
And give him the fairy tale ending of forgiveness
But the girl has long left the city
He is waiting for a phantom
And the next best thing
Death
As you can probably tell the dramatics are in town today and I've booked every seat at the theater
I sit in every row and cry at every interval
And
I do not have the money to pay for the tickets
