Love poems, Lost meanings.

If it was a crime to put my hands in my pocket, you would catch me red handed.
Every time you could of caught me with my head down, I would keep my back straight.
Each step I take, it's another second I don't have to hear from the clock.
I have gone too far from the meaning by now, everything you need to realize is here.
I'll never acknowledge your name, you'll just be another third person in my mind.
I leave with a salutation, with a hello-goodbye, I knew John Lennon was a genius.
Cover my eyes with a blind fold, I'd still be able to scream the lies that you told.
You said I was a wildfire, and all nature I would destroy, but that was the beauty of it.
Every prediction came out as a lie, I could never define each one.
I told you the theory of how the clouds would fall, they seem to be at your feet tonight.
Just a sequel so something that never happened to begin with, I can't write what I've seen.
There was never an us in team, but apparently there was a you. Just scrap book that quote.
Another day could pass by and I wouldn't notice, just like when you brushed my shoulder.
If this still seems a bit hazy to you, consider that you're a bit hazy to me.
I never liked being redundant, but seeing you so much I might as well get used to my dislikes.
It doesn't feel right to talk with your fist in my throat, gagging me of words I should have.