An Envious Fever Of Pale And Bloodless

When I Got Enough Confidence, The Stage Was Gone. When I Was Sure Of Losing, I Won. When I Needed People The Most, They Left Me. When I Learnt To Dry My Tears, I Found A Shoulder To Cry On. And When I Mastered The Art Of Hating, Somebody Started Loving Me.

To Bed, To Bed; Sleep Kill Those Pretty Eyes, And Give As Soft Attachment To Thy Senses, As Infants Empty Of All Thought.

Tear-falling Pity Dwells Not In This Eye.

Beshrew The Heart That Makes My Heart To Groan.

Give Obedience Where 'tis Truly Owed.