You leave me wandering for days In my head as to who it is You really are. What intentions you must have... Or must have buried. You're like an incomplete thought, Suspended in the air Ready to be had. You make me wonder how fast one must run to be free from one's own chains. Frustrating, isn't it? When you have so much time to think and to live but the thought of life confines you. To turn away from it all would be irresponsible After all, your problems are petty right?