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I search and search every day for that little boy who will play the strings of my heart like his favorite guitar He says his dreams will take him far as his lips press lightly on the nape of my neck He would trek 1,000 miles just to make me smile because he says I'm the only thing that matters much anymore His past is pained but that doesn't mean it has to mame his future FAME is not what he wants His maturity never ceases to amaze me A beautiful contrast to his constant childlike ability to add light to any room or give a smile to any star It's sad that he won't go as far as he'd planned I must condem him to memory his freckles and the feeling of running my fingers through his hair It isn't fair that he was never there in the first place
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Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Little Boys
I search and search every day for that little boy who will play the strings of my heart like his favorite guitar He says his dreams will take him far as his lips press lightly on the nape of my neck He would trek 1,000 miles just to make me smile because he says I'm the only thing that matters much anymore His past is pained but that doesn't mean it has to mame his future FAME is not what he wants His maturity never ceases to amaze me A beautiful contrast to his constant childlike ability to add light to any room or give a smile to any star It's sad that he won't go as far as he'd planned I must condem him to memory his freckles and the feeling of running my fingers through his hair It isn't fair that he was never there in the first place
Notebook/Computer
whitney
Written by
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
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