Work Text:
Forgive me if I have become cold
i am young, yet my soul feels old
from all the lies and illusions I've been sold
so the distrust grows on my heart like mold
and I care nothing for what you've been told
about me, good or bad, the bell has already tolled
now I bury it, my warmth, one rarer than gold
to be unearthed someday by someone who can hold
me with a caring touch
but perhaps I am asking for too much.