Because you first chose to have expectations.
They lose your trust
Because you first chose to believe in them.
They break your heart
Because you first chose to give your heart away.
They make you sad
Because they once made you happy.
They make you cry
Because they once cried with you.
They hurt you
Because you chose to love them.
I've become a page in history
An once upon a time
A leave that withers after summer
A desert in the wind
A shooting star
A past memory.
But I refuse, to lose hope.
I believe there are good people.
