So consumed by what you've made into a fatal attraction.
Only for the truely deserving, to suffer from the sense you're lacking.

So many people care, and yet, you think they're out to get you.
Put others first. They love the attention. They're always gonna let you.
Realize that it doesn't mean you'll be made to be their only lover.
Understand, its in your hands. You allow yourself to suffer.
Not that I think you'll heed these words. Its your addiction and your strife
Good things come to those who wait. Unless waiting's all you get from life.


*This is me, trying to take my own advice. I've always wanted to do one of those acronym poems.