Who would it be?

I'd choose my happiness over you,

Because in the end,

When the flowers wilt, and the wind turns cold, 

You'll be gone.

Looking for someone else to call your home. 

So in a question of who would it be?

You or me?

Its me.

Strayed though I may, I've always come back to myself. 

Unlike you, who is here just until the wind blows you back to wherever you go,

When you decide im no longer enough for you. 

So. the next time the seasons change,

When sunshine turns to rain,

When the wind starts to blow you my way,

Move past me, cause I can no longer play these games.

This poem is about: 


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