All these poems are nothing.
There's no feeling or emotions.
Merely fancy words strung together to form a pretty sentence.
Where is my heart
It ran away with my soul.
And there is nothing left to do but wait and grow old.
So if you take me there I think we'll be okay
But if we wait, just wait a little longer
I'll never go away.
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 3:50 PM UTC
All these poems are nothing.
There's no feeling or emotions.
Merely fancy words strung together to form a pretty sentence.
Where is my heart
It ran away with my soul.
And there is nothing left to do but wait and grow old.
So if you take me there I think we'll be okay
But if we wait, just wait a little longer
I'll never go away.