Amidst provocative costumes,
and scary masquerades...

Its for the good-bye
kisses I never get when...

Maybe its the way
your hair often smells...

Astonished by
your hypocrisy...

Do you know,
dearest...

Its four in the morning,
and I'm awake...

Perhaps,one day ..
when you stop...

You never wanted me,
you never did...

There was something
about the last Sunday...

And so,
another poem...

Here I am,
giving use to this so called...

I just wonder,
If I will ever grow tired...