I'll wear my good face if you wear yours,
We'll smile the night away.
You might not care for me anymore
But I'll wear it anyway.
What happened to us being thick as thieves?
Where did the good times go?
It isn't my fault that they up and left,
I swear.. I guess we'll never know.
Now it's a polite hello in the midst of silence.
No more passion, flare - Our eternal spark -
Which shone bright amongst the shadows,
Is nothing to the overwhelming dark.
This isn't a sonnet that gives new breath,
The only cure for our sickness is death.
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 4:32 AM UTC
I'll wear my good face if you wear yours,
We'll smile the night away.
You might not care for me anymore
But I'll wear it anyway.
What happened to us being thick as thieves?
Where did the good times go?
It isn't my fault that they up and left,
I swear.. I guess we'll never know.
Now it's a polite hello in the midst of silence.
No more passion, flare - Our eternal spark -
Which shone bright amongst the shadows,
Is nothing to the overwhelming dark.
This isn't a sonnet that gives new breath,
The only cure for our sickness is death.
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