It is dedicated to all of them, who thinks I'm no more the person I used to be.
When everything you strive for and everything you cry for, crashes and burn into ashes.
When you tears refuses to share you pain, you pick up this retard pen and all your efforts still are vain.
When you rise your head to wish out of those shooting stars, but still your wish retraces it's path.
I still see her riding on her only ride with the person still chasing her, who drowned me against the love/hate tide.
I still see her wishing for care, shall I still call her? I would not dare. Three and a half years of love and a middle finger at last.