The streets talk
the walls listen...
Colors swirl around me
blinding to my eyes...
This is my bedroom,
My own four walls...
I AM WHAT I AM
NOTHING MORE...
Though I cannot even call you friend,
I have read your words time and again...
The time has come again
For my heart to break in two...
Every turn I take
I find is wrong...
Things that belong to yesterday
are a fading memory of time...
As I strain
For a light...
Walk with me
Through the rain...
Please read and rate honestly because this is how...
You may think this is a love poem...
Everything has to be perfect.
Nothing can be wrong...