You cant save my life
I am drawn
drawn in my own pain

You cant make me happy
I am covered
Covered with my own grief

You cant read me
I am written in the paper
damped by my own tears

I stand here in the shadows
Looking on
As you for her all your body
All your love
Everything

I stand here in the desert
Looking on
Thirsty for your love
Your attention
Whilst she has it all

I stand in the fire
Looking on
But seeing nothing
But fire
Desperation
And loneliness

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:
The humble Sheep. a threatning horn:
While the Lily white, shall in Love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright