Well, I have this gift of revulsion. The ability to draw people and also this strange power where all so sudden you'll be repelled by me for no apparent reason. I have never been quite able to solve this mystery of what drives people away from me. I have chalked up the graphs and run down the numbers and yet never have I arrived at the conclusion I have searched for.
Sometimes I feel like a book of Hieroglyphics, which intrigues people while they're browsing through the bookstore and they pick it up. But very few have ever taken the time to ever make sense of those cryptic symbols. And not before long, they've already put the book down, and have moved on to other more simpler ones that made easier sense and I lie there like a half read text, never being bought.
I long for an explorer who's setting for excavations and maybe they'd open the text and finally take me home. For even though as old as the hills my soul may be, there might be someone who'd still value a relic however dusty it might be from the layers of earth gathered upon it.
Sometimes I feel like a book of Hieroglyphics, which intrigues people while they're browsing through the bookstore and they pick it up. But very few have ever taken the time to ever make sense of those cryptic symbols. And not before long, they've already put the book down, and have moved on to other more simpler ones that made easier sense and I lie there like a half read text, never being bought.
I long for an explorer who's setting for excavations and maybe they'd open the text and finally take me home. For even though as old as the hills my soul may be, there might be someone who'd still value a relic however dusty it might be from the layers of earth gathered upon it.