Spoonfed a mouthful of soft poems,
the pangs of unthanked love numb your heart
to fortify against the abrupt attack of truth;
That one feels is a weakness,
or if he does speak of it is a fool!
This is but an unhinging maze
to soak the mind in waves of guilt and despair
stagnant as a melted nightmare...
And thus, the heart believes it
only to begin to freeze forever more.

I've loved many girls,
the one with perfect shape,
the one with hair curls,
the one with perfect hands,
how her palms felt against my own,
the one with coloured eyes,

everyone loved me differently,
I felt the love differently,
how one talks about night and sky,
and other just talk and talk and talk,

how one insisted me to cook food,
and other just needed time,
how everyone taught me different things,
I wonder who I've loved the most,

eventually they all had
one common thing,
none was able to stay,
one after another,
they all fade away,
even though I hoped
this one is surely forever,

but the pain of leaving,
felt lesser and lesser,
because the first love
broke me into pieces,
and you can't break a person
who is already broken.

now I am waiting,
waiting for that perfect one,
the one with "happily after" tag,
the one who feels like home,
perhaps she is home.

So, this is what I get.
I think sitting all alone.
All those times I took advantage, I should have known.
Now every sound echos off the walls, in these empty halls.
In now a house, that used to be a home.
Once filled with family, now is only occupied by me... alone.