I started beating my doormat
Dust came back
So I stopped beating
Like a rock stuck in my shoe
Nothing new
The past repeating
I somehow treasure
The idols I’ve built
My guilty pleasures
Have turned into guilt
Just as Esdras says,
The empty things of man are leaving me empty
I’m broken
“Is there anyone home?”
I’m buried under a landslide
Of my pride
And I deserve it
I choose to eat from the tree
Lucky me
Never worth it
I somehow treasure
The idols I’ve built
My guilty pleasures
Have turned into guilt
Just as Esdras says,
The empty things of man are leaving me empty
I’m broken
Is there anyone?
Is there anyone in the room
I can use?
“Is there anyone home?”
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