Still see their sad faces when I waved goodbye, Made a choice made a move want to turn back but can’t, Sacrifice and hopefully in time, Everything plays out and it’ll coincide, But aint nothing promised in our lifetime, All I know is that it’s quite come night time, A little less enthusiastic on these holidays, I’m sitting with a slouch and a cup-o-runaway, Who do I look to to blame, Point my finger at the cause of the pain, And then remember what my teacher was saying, There are three fingers pointing back at who aims, The crazy thing is when my ink hit the paper brought to me, I had no idea I was writing a self-prophecy.