I used to shine a perfect, borrowed light.
It wasn't mine and it was taken over night.
Shame traces the edges of your face.
Fully lit independent of this place.
Old enough to see,
How diamond, wedding rings
Have counterfeited things.
I've been borrowed.
Shame on me.
My muse is gone.
Forsaken of the theme.
No motto now.
No cradle, no dream.
Bathed in soft, embezzled light.
Six feet below and idealistic love.
But, I still want these things.
Flighted childhood dreams.
As foolish as they seem.
But, I've been taken.
Shame on me.
(I used to shine,
It wasn't mine.
Shame, shame, shame.
Fully lit.)
Now only sweet, little, wishful things.
Are bound and gagged.
Tied up in different strings.
No living castles up in the sky.
Following unbothered clouds go by.
And I've been taken.
Shame on me.
But, I still want these things.
Flighted childhood dreams.
As foolish as they seem.
I've been taken.
Shame on me.
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