The poems I wrote are mine alone, |
I know that when you smile at me
You're just trying to relieve the pain...
He knew it, she knew it,
Everyone saw...
I was missing these butterflies.
Tickling my stomach and otherwise...
She hides her shame and turns away,
Won't admit to pain of yesterday...
You are nothing more than an empty promise left...
A fading shadow on the street...
The Little Girl and Her Candle
Her hands were trembling slightly...
I was missing these butterflies.
Tickling my stomach and otherwise...
The throbbing of the demon drums
Beat inside my head...
How beautiful the sky is to those who were once blind, |
One of these days, we're all going to find what we've been looking for all along. And you're either going to be happy or miserable; never in between. |
I'm not at all perfect, |