The Bad Guys
It seems I always get the bad guys,
The ones who let me down
When I need them most.
Using should be a mutual thing
A little giving on both sides
Never hurts the soul.
I think I always seemed to know
We'd drift apart someday.
You only needed me.
I had my poetry and art.
You had your other friends
And always somewhere else to be.
I needed you to hold my hand
And tell me I was beautiful, loved and good
I wanted kindness.
And now my ego hides itself
Battered, bruised and broken,
Seeking to lick it's wounds alone.
I seem to fight the world a lot,
When all I ever wanted from life,
Was a chance to give in.
When my wounds are healed and rested,
I'll search again for someone else,
That someone I can use.
But do we ever find that perfect someone?
Do two souls ever fit together,
In such a way that no cracks show?