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| 268 4/1/04 Contains Enough Headaches Ink drawn words form from only deep down inside, On to a clean page with nothing left off to the side, Expressed through feelings of love, hate, and despair, For who exactly that of which anyway would care This is me no matter how you pick it apart and take it, There�s nothing more to understand then what you make of it, And depending on how well you think you know you care, I�m still here but the you I knew isn�t there For nothing is ever set in stone to remain unchanged, Though often challenged to be rearranged, Some stand by and swear to their decision evermore, And nothing that I say means anything anymore But I�ve realized I�ve been angry at the wrong person here, Because for the first time things are starting to become clear, �I was too blind to see for the answer was right in front of me,� And now seems as good of a time as any to change and see. |