My Own Medicine

A beautiful thing, the word "unrequited"; it rolls off the tongue like a wave
But stings at the teeth, much like when venom flows out from the bite of a snake
It melts through the bone, leaving me without a semblance of skeleton left
To show that I became something I never had planned

She don't have the time
Don't have the room in her mind to make space for a guy
Who tries all he might to sweep her clean off of her feet
She don't have the sight
Can't tell that she's made of finer than roses and wine
The sensory high, the savor in all that I eat

But a spoonful of sugar won't help my own medicine go down

A curious thing; my actions and dialogue always were under my rule
But roles were recast; I was the prince and now I'm playing the part of the fool
A clown sentenced by karma's judicial and ill-fated chain of events
I just don't understand what anyone could have against happiness

She don't have the time
Can't even quite justify any known reason why
I pass through her mind as strangers would pass on the street
She don't have the sight
Can't tell that she breathes the life into every night
The wind in the kite, the essence of everything sweet