Don't Stop.
Was the gentlest command that ever passed your lips.
My fingers danced across the keys,
Playing to the tempo of your scribbling pen.
We wrote a symphony that day,
Broken to the beat of our passionate hearts.
The arias of my poetry were never enough for you.
You had to hear them played in the form of
Chopin
Bach
Strauss
Anything you could write to.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
Don't Stop.
Was the gentlest command that ever passed your lips.
My fingers danced across the keys,
Playing to the tempo of your scribbling pen.
We wrote a symphony that day,
Broken to the beat of our passionate hearts.
The arias of my poetry were never enough for you.
You had to hear them played in the form of
Chopin
Bach
Strauss
Anything you could write to.
