I tried too hard to be the way You want me. Always t, h, and may. Not can, never can. Now it's disappointment I fear, Not death, or the dark. Those fears are not fear Anymore. Is that good? That I understand its Not always possible to (understand). That things happen, And that love has no constant definition By any stretch of the imagination, which, by the way, Is always better harnessed. It can get lonely, outside the box. Looking in.