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Under that palm tree, We once laughed at lazy farmers, Across that path we were made novice lovers, Then you smiled, You knew, I knew what you meant, Right there we once danced in the rain, Smile days after days, Beneath that Carriage we first made love, But its over, and forgotten, Like a stone at the bottom of the ocean, We left dager in our biased heart, Sort of two stones thrown I different directions, Everyday owing each moment, that I have vividly imagine, Pictured place perfectly in my heart, My old diary of great mystery, Mysteries we fathomed, Seemed to be fantasy and shield phantom, You reveled to me, My old brown dairy you gave me, All pages up here In my memory, With a golden ribbon
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Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
My old diary
Under that palm tree, We once laughed at lazy farmers, Across that path we were made novice lovers, Then you smiled, You knew, I knew what you meant, Right there we once danced in the rain, Smile days after days, Beneath that Carriage we first made love, But its over, and forgotten, Like a stone at the bottom of the ocean, We left dager in our biased heart, Sort of two stones thrown I different directions, Everyday owing each moment, that I have vividly imagine, Pictured place perfectly in my heart, My old diary of great mystery, Mysteries we fathomed, Seemed to be fantasy and shield phantom, You reveled to me, My old brown dairy you gave me, All pages up here In my memory, With a golden ribbon
Written by
Drunk_poet
19/M
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
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