Most times, things get confusing

   the sudden drifts which leaves me astounded

Where the only thing constant was change

   and the emptiness that never fails to leave behind

Those words you once promised

   even the letters you once sent me

Were they really told and sent with love?

   because now they seem to have been forgotten 

Maybe I was destined to be lonesome

   always the little boy's abandoned toy

One who brought joy to him before

  but then manages to always thrown and loved no more....