The cold stairs.
they squeak, and whine,
as familiar feet walk down them.
The cold, numbing nights, remind me of you.
Of how you use to ahce in pain,
How you would complain,
i gave you to much work.
For once, you were actually right,
i did.
An boy do i regret it.
So freeking much.
My heart pains as your mind flashes,
in and out of my mind.
Always screaming at me,
We never did get to have a good conversation.
There was so much i still wanted to know about you.
But i gave you to much work.
An now i'll never know.
I never did know why you didnt like me,
i guess i was a jerk.
But surlely i thought you knew i was kidding.
Right? you did,
didnt you?
I gave to much work,
how idiotic i am.
I knew you were stressed,
I saw it in your young feautres.
Young features such as yours,
should've never been tainted with so much regret and
Stress.
All becasue of too much work.
An now, i feel sick to my stomache.
which is why i sit awake,
on these cold nights.
that remind me of you.
Awake i stay to think about the day.
you were once alive and screaming.
Cursing and shouting,
laughing and caring.
Promising and swearing.
I didnt mean to take everything away,
all becasue of too much work.
Now i feel all the regret and guilt,
that was rested upon your shoulders,
at such a young age.
I miss you,
We all do.
another thing i regret,
taking you away from everyone you could of had,
a future with.
Al,
Winry,
An i ruined it...
all becasue of too much work.
Thats why you are gone now.
not you, i should be turning over in my grave.
Not you.
I honestly sit here, regret pouring out of me,
oozing.
I really think what work it is to live.
Though you had made it fun and willing and hopeful.
I shattered dreams and denied it,
But now on these cold nights.
When im thinking of you.
Your golden hair ad eyes and sickening sweet grin.
I feel regret, and none like i've felt before.
What a bother it is to live,
what a bother it is to work,
What an annoyance it now became,
that you are gone.
An you can never come back.