All day I stand watch of the treasure I have lost
I pray that I don't pollute the air with mental exhaust
at what cost, am I to feel as if my will has gone soft
being a witness to what I can't have is a curse
I enlist the power of a raw fist, to exemplify hurt
I'm exempt from lying, as the truth reasserts
if it is really worth trying, to be concise in a verse
when the actions around me can speak on their own
they are distractions, that I must pay back like a loan
simple attractions, get me in more trouble than I'm prone
stealing satisfactions, when my world's a cyclone
all alone, staring at the events that are around me
take a deep breath and not let them surround me
in spite of these, proceedings that astound me
in sight to see, this punish-ment of not attaining
now similar to lent, my moral strength is straining
but now I'm refraining, from a different kind of habit
looking back at the past, as I safely inhabit
have the present last, and can't seem to grab it
but I'm glad it, is dragging on, even if so dilatory
where this nagging's from, is my past glory
it is too late to cash in this treasure, end of story
the prize is irretrievable, and the choice has tore me
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