It is the shape that your life forms
When you're chasing him and he's chasing you,
But you never get anywhere.
A beautiful thing that was never meant to be.

It is the ring on your finger when you
Don't listen to yourself,
When you think with your heart,
When you assume that
Tomorrow will be kinder.

It is the hole in the wall you want
Your fist to make when you argue again.
It is the tears that stream down your face instead.

It is the way you turn as you look at the stars
And beg for answers, and none ever come.