strand of hair no.4Sometimes the people I care about don't realize I care for themOr not that muchThey don't realize itI'd do the biggest small things for themI'd fill a basket of paper cranes for themI'd be all ears for themI'd run my life away with themI'd open their eyes to the worldI'd go to hell and back for themI'd paint a beautiful interpretation of life for themI don't want them to return the careI just want them to acknowledge the careAnd to appreciate the care
why does the end have to come as soon as we startWhy you gotta come in my lifeWhy you gotta unintentionally flip everything upside downWhy you gotta heal me so quicklyWhy you gotta let me see the wonders of the worldWhy you gotta mess up everything in my lifeWhy you gotta add so many colors into my lifeWhy you gotta make me so confusedWhy you gotta be a friendWhy you gotta be a good friendWhy you gotta be a best friendWhy you gotta be a likeable personWhy you gotta be a crushWhy you gotta be so much better than the last special personI thought he was a 10Seeing you, I now realize he’s just a 1
CoeurI'll set my hair on fireI'll choke myself with wiresI'll start a gunfireI'll go through a wildfireI'll stab my neighbor's tireThe hearts and likes I get are never lowAnd that's great for my empty ego
The warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is wailing,The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying,And the YearOn the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead,Is lying.Come, Months, come away,From November to May,In your saddest array;Follow the bierOf the dead cold Year,And like dim shadows watch by her sepulchre.The chill rain is falling, the nipped worm is crawling,The rivers are swelling, the thunder is knellingFor the Year;The blithe swallows are flown, and the lizards each gone
Now I knew I lost her --Not that she was gone --But Remoteness travelledOn her Face and Tongue.Alien, though adjoiningAs a Foreign Race --Traversed she though pausingLatitudeless Place.Elements Unaltered --Universe the sameBut Love's transmigration --Somehow this had come --Henceforth to rememberNature took the DayI had paid so much for --His is Penury
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,And feathered pampas-grass rides into the windLike aged warriors westward, tragic, thinnedOf half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,Stripped of its secret, open, stark and bleak,Blackens afar the half-forgotten creek,--Then leans on me the weight of the year, and crushesMy heart. I know that Beauty must ail and die,And will be born again,--but ah, to seeBeauty stiffened, staring up at the sky!Oh, Autumn! Autumn!--What is the Spring to me?