Have you ever left an imprint, Any trace of yourself? Is there anything to prove That you were ever there? You leave a small void A climactic little less But nothing to really prove That you were ever there They close their doors behind you But yours is left half open By each new trespasser To leave his mark They take all that you give Give nothing in return I don't think you like Having doors closed You're covered in their marks Carved and blistered skin You're a cast of footprints Of all who've been there And you do not have a void It's a cumbersome weight You cannot stand up straight Your head between your knees They close their doors behind you But yours is left half open By each new trespasser To leave his mark They take all that you give Give nothing in return I don't think you like Having doors closed
Cool poem. I used to be able to relate but now I've found some great friends and an awesome boyfriend. Peace and love...
