Old man, old man rocking on your chair,
You have so many stories to share...

Tell me you love me once again,
Before I take my final breath in...

Old pictures that hang on my wall,
Gather dust amongst the frames...

One of the same...

Please don't tell me you love me,
Because it hurts...

Children begging down the street,
It breaks my heart to see you weep...

The rose bush has many roses,
All beautiful and amazing alike...

People always tell me that I'm never satisfied,
That I'm always searching for something better...

Scream the scream of sorrow,
Scream the scream of hate...

** Ottava Rima
A Ottava Rima is a poem written in 8-line octives...

It would only last for a while, she said.
It's only going to be a mile, she said...

With each sin you committed,
You left a everlasting mark on our skin...