I told myself I would leave,
The last time I injected heroin into my veins,
I watched as you watch the scene unfold,
The astonishment in your eyes but they didn't close.
The mellow touch of your hands,
They call you whimsical, when you rant.
But they don't know your worth,
You're pricey, a gift yet a curse.
Every word you utter is a prelude to a phrase,
That's deeper than the cuts and wounds on your face.
Your eyes so majestic, I could get lost in those skies,
They said you're not cultured, I thought they were right.
Yet they left and went ahead, but you stayed,
And you didn't like fuels, didn't like those who ruled, but anyway,
You're a catch, and one day you'll surely find a keeper,
I'm sorry that they treated you like a toy, called you an attention seeker.