I’m Like A New Deck Of Cards. I Look Nice And Fun To Play With And When You Get Bored I’m Here. You Lose Me, Look For Me, Find Me, And Put Me Back In My Box So Next Time When Your Ready You Know Where To Find Me. Over Time As You Keep Using Me For What I Have, I Get Worn Out And Old. Even When You Grow Out Of Me And Forget About Me, I’m Still Here. I’m Here When Days Get Lonely And You Want To Find Yourself. I’m Here When You Need To Sort Things Out. And That Just The Thing, I’m Always Here. Even When I Get Hurt, I’m Here. Even When I’m Forgotten, I’m Here. But At the End Of It All, I’m Just A Pack Of Cards. I Can’t Control How You Feel About Me Or Why. I Can’t Control Your Lost Of Interest. I Cant Control How You Treat Me And Use Me. I Cant Control That Even After I Know How Things Are, I Get Caught Up And Lose Self Meaning. But I Can Control The Game, So Chose Your Cards Wisely.


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