The Hand Of Your Raising

Is it your nature to be kind, Or just the hand of your raising? I didn't know you before I met you, And I don't know if I know you now. It was in the morning when you left, After a night of talking nonsense. I hated for you to leave that way But I watched you go nonetheless. Now I feel red like the carpet on my bedroom floor Full of loaded words And nothing I ain't heard from you before. Should I have followed you out the door? Instead of holding it all open. Like the way that you held me not so long ago. I wear my cards on my sleeve, But you leave yours in the shadows. Looming so deep and in darkness Do you think that I could see? Now I feel red like the carpet on my bedroom floor Full of loaded words And nothing I ain't heard from you before. Now, I feel red like the carpet on my bedroom floor, And I'm not sure how I should write you anymore. Is it your nature to be kind, Or just the hand of your raising?