Vanity Is a Bouquet of Roses

i feel sick. the things i don't want to do, i do, and the things i want to do, i do them, but with much delay. i looked you in the eye with pain, but you turned my emotions away for personal gain, forcing yourself upon me like a cougar to it's prey. i'll love you, i love you, i Loved you. we can play hide and seek forever, or i can give myself away, but if i do not eat, i hunger. and so, i hunger. how could i ever compare my beauty to a rose?