.
.
.
have you ever built a castle
high and mighty, out of sand
to slip and when you stumble
have it crumble in your hands?
the memory of what should be
will haunt you every day
without the hope you once had
you can never be the same
the worst part is you know that
there is nothing you can do
and nothing else to blame
the only variable was you
I really ****** up