II. The Broken Man

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❒There are many broken hearts
Writting for each other
She's writing for him
And he's writing for someone else.
There's so much love to give
But no one to receive it, you're all so lucky.
You all feel something

But who will write for the broken man?
Who will write about him?
He, who doesn't care for anyone
For he, has none.
Accustomed empty rooms,
Empty bars,
Bored of his own echoes and shadows.
Who will write for him?

The clock tics on,

The dreary day goes on
Everyone asks how he is.
But no one means it,
No one wants to know.
Why would they, he's just another acquitance.
Who will write for him?
He, who wants to care,
He, who has lost hope,
He, who just exists, not lives.

Even the alcohol doesn't taste as good anymore.

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