Capsulize

Plans that never materialize, Now, it all seems too familiar Like pages turned on calendars, We get the same twelve months to fuck things up, Year after year, Mistakes compile themselves in a collage of senseless patterns upon my altar of failures, Maybe I've never looked hard enough, Maybe there is no pattern. Redemption has grown far beyond this feeble grasp, But I only have myself to blame, Always so eager to pack my bags, When I all I need to do is stay.