I Can’t Trust Me

It’s like picking Rose petals,
Plucking promises I don’t know how to keep,
and trusting in all the wrong things.

Pick
Here take this,
Pluck
No I’ve got it,
Pick
it’s yours,
Pluck
I’ll just take care of this one,

It’s a never ending field of flowers,
You’d think I’d learn my lesson,
After all,
There’s just one flaw with my own logic,
All petals picked
By my own hand eventually die anyway.

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