It's the things you love and the things that you learn to hate. It's the feeling of despair and indescribable rage. It's the things you try to hide but you always seem to find

That the human aspects of life are fickle and flame. There's a communal need to pass on (not shoulder) the blame. When you stand back and look away, can you handle all the shame

Of the things you know you should have done but you chose to neglect? And you say you're doing fine but you're an emotional wreck. The things you try to hide cast shadows in your eyes.

It's the things you thought you knew and the things you try to forget. Is it a life well lived if it's a life filled with regret? If it's a shocking turn of events, will you trudge on through the end

Of the story to see how it all will surely unfold? Isn't there a strange sort of beauty in the perils of telling truths untold? When the questions that you have are the ones you'll never ask

On a search to self proclaimed enlightened truth and you seem to think you wasted time on this ill fitting youth. The things you try to hide turn my stomach and make me cry.

It's the things you did and the things that I know you regret.