I don't own a love.
Who am I...and that's too expensive anyway.
But if riches are your thing,
find me in a catacomb of gold-
since you're the gem in the junkyard.
Floating in stagnant rainwater
in some old tires.....
Because just like you,
they used to go somewhere with their life.
All the disregarded prized possessions
roting away.
No longer of use.
Hurry up and show your weight in precious metals
when someone else waves some cash.
Tin man still doesn't have a heart.
Nobody wants to buy any scraps
and the little bit of value was kept in the chest of this fool.
The only part I ever tried to keep.
Why make that investment for a
diamond in the rough
when it's not ready to shine?
I still understand what it could be.
It's covenant, but only as a prize to admire.
I don't love an owner.
Who are you anyway?
You apparently don't even know.
No one buys my attention.
I just freely give it,
but only to those who truly deserve it.
I'm tired of giving up my valuable pity.
There's never anything in return.
My feelings were always pennies on the dollar.
There's my 2 cents.
I can afford that much
even when everything I've said to you
appears to be worthless.
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