We tell people we love them,
But do we really mean it?
Does it really come from our heart?
But we don’t know till we spilt.
Have you been asked the question?
The question that make you think?
I have and many times before,
And every time has been hidden with one blink.
I sit here thinking how many times,
Times I have been in lust,
How many times I have said ‘I love you’,
I know that lust could never pass as love with all my trust.
I sit here writing about love,
With my heart bleeding,
Of the pain I have suffered,
All times I have been hurt over this reading.
I have hope for everyone,
That when they say ‘I love you’,
That they mean it and don’t mean lust,
So at the end they aren’t feeling blue.
Maybe it’s true,
You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone,
Maybe we should look deep inside our hearts,
And think of the pain that we have drawn.
People say I can never fall in love,
When I’m so strict over myself,
But maybe I know what its like to have a heart in four,
And I know how to look after ones self.
I don’t like these mind games,
Maybe I have been in love more than twice,
And maybe I’m still in love,
But time can only tell after I roll the dice.
