In the wicked game we played;
The distorted rules we make,
The empty words we say,
And the goodbyes in the end of May;
The lies of February's promise;
And the man I want to love.
Cruel honesty that got us in the beginning, and the only thing that's left for us in the end.
By June, a threat of winter's cold;
It wasn't even close to turn our hearts to stone
A teared hear...
Monday 11th September 2017 4:25 pm
I wrote a poem you'll never read
I'll sing a song you'll never hear
As the pictures on the wall starts to fade
As the dust invades the picture frames
And the seasons come and passed outside my window pane
I still hadn't learned a thing
Time passess as quickly as the clouds crossing from the endless of skies
Your name resonates in the eternal soul of mine
A mundane thing to do is to cry
Monday 11th September 2017 3:01 pm