lunes, 22 de octubre de 2012

sometimes the road is not what was supposed to be our path

Spring morning, soft showering from sky
like tears from God's eyes
I have written thousand of words, so small of me
while the paper was blue printed by the tint
what else could be
is it there something to feel

big armed, big handed
great hearted, great souled
unloved, unfolded
I'm sure I knew you from before
maybe I'm your bitter half
it'll remain in time like a sore
and I've lost my laugh

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