How many times will I be forced to beg
For attention that's rightfully mine?
How long? How long? Must I sit in the dark
And wait for your true love to shine?
The need in me is like a bruise
That never quite gets healed.
And every rebuff or harsh-spoken word
Goes straight to the pain as I reel.
A rhinestone is never a diamond.
And brass can't turn into gold.
So why do I search for acceptance and love
From a heart that is withered and cold?
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