Always back to the past, 

Afraid to face the future, 

Same people, same mistakes, 

Inertia concentrating the impure. 

Besties half your age, 

Because you never grew up, 

Hiding from a mirror’s face, 

In a 30 year old’s cup. 

Always chasing money, 

Every one from the past your fund, 

Thinking real men are made of greed, 

A child’s opinion, sucking thumb. 

And they use you as they please, 

Come and go without a care, 

And you let them treat you badly, 

For the fleeting taste of a good fare. 

Never loved by them for true, 

Just an easy wetness to get in, 

But that’s all you’ve ever been to them, 

A vain floozie selling skin. 

And you could have ended all of it, 

Chosen with your heart and not your vanity, 

Taken someone who’d believed in you,

But your ego chose wealth and a rich man’s depravity.