And I thought I just put it on the pile,
And then it hit me,
Who else would have a pile filled yet to see,
Of things where in people show you how they feel?
Doesn't it sound unreal?
A pile because I need to keep it,
A pile I would love to set to fire and let lit,
But I could never,
Because these thoughts should stay with me forever,
for otherwise I wont believe,
I would aways take care of my own deceive,
So please I beg you now,
Tell me how beautiful I am until I know,
That it's real until I believe,
When I look inside the mirror instead of grief,
For the girl I once was...
Make me believe the words you say,
And I'll follow you whatever way...
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