Justin Finch-Fletchley's Journal

aftermidnight knows all your secrets.
Some say now suffer all the children
And walk away a saviour,
Or a madman and polluted
From gutter institutions.
Don't you breathe for me,
Undeserving of your sympathy,
Cos there ain't no way that I'm sorry
For what I've done.
And through it all
How could you cry
For me?
Cos I don't feel bad about it.
So shut your eyes,
Kiss me goodbye,
And sleep.
Just sleep.
The hardest part is letting go of your ( dreams. )