Eleven years ago so young and naïve, easy to deceive, and dying to please; but, in
these eleven years not once did I understand…
My love was a dream, crushing my heart with his hands.
Determined to make the unrealistic real, I fought for my love and created sex appeal.
Only to find that my dream was only mine wasted so much time to learn your heart
was filled with grime.
Not able to provide what is required of me to be happy. I know your love was real
but your sour love-style didn’t match mine so I cry.
Eleven years ago you promised to love me the way I needed to be loved, said you
But here I stand now with a plan and faith as a token, to find your all your promise