Truth, lies, you, me
These different things
Mean but the opposites
He's there, he sits
She's thinking, thinking, wondering
Seeing, being, believing.
Not a word is spoken
Her heart has been broken
He stands and leaves
She cries with screams.
Death, life, you me
These different things
It's over, he's dead
She dreams such in bed
Was it real, she doesn't know
Until she wakes let it show
Just a dream, so real
But how does she feel
She had loved him for so long
Could he really be gone
She can't believe what she's seen
How could it have been just a dream?
^This a poem I wrote last summer, I hope you like it!
