Woodwork

My Roman numeral came

As "one" and "I" are both the same

She curves just like the wick

Of a burning candle's dancing flame

These vultures were in love,

Always circling high above

Picked each other apart,

Hungry for the other's heart

Real fun, let's all underachieve

Failed to dispel the myth

Every time is always ending with

The sharp end of a star

Stabbing me right through my heart

She's gone and I'm beyond

A color scheme of loneliness

Now my Roman numeral is lost

As "one" and "I" are now divorced

Your wishes are my command

Real fun, let's all underachieve

Crawling out of rotted woodwork

It stings to breathe

When I don't even know what to do with myself

Real fun, let's all underachieve