Spare Me

Save the penny for your thoughts
and the sympathy for your pain.
Spare me your laden guilt-trip
and leave the downpour to the rain.
I don’t need your condescension.
I don’t need your big doe eyes.
I’m not there for you now
but don’t say I didn’t try.

I could be all you ever wanted
but you would find me lacking still.
I could bring you yellow tulips
and you’d say it’s overkill.
I’d kneel down on one knee
and ask you for your hand
but there’d be doubt in your heart.
Oh, isn’t that grand?

I could be the vilest of devils
but you’d paint me like a saint.
I could bring you naught but heartache
and you’d just accept the taint.
I’d treat you horrible. I’d be so cruel--
yet you’d stay the perfect tool.
And when it all was said and done,
you’d just try harder to be the one.

So, save the effort for the cruel
and your delusions for the pain.
Save the sweet and soft embraces
for one who doesn’t feel the same.
You’ll end up working for acceptance
every moment of every day.
Spare me your tragedy, darling
so I can heal my own heartache.