Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2010
Feed my lies to me.
We can make ourselves believe.
Anything is possible,
especially changing things.

We could finally clear our sight.
We could sleep all through the night.
We could finally take flight.
We could finally get this right.

But, I'd rather make believe
that now is all I need.
I'd rather make believe
that I shouldn't change a thing.

I'd rather make believe that I'm for real.

Every single time
that I've tried to thank you,
you never accept
and I never make you.

I wish real bad
that I could hate you.
But, you're too good,
I congratulate you.

We won't get it right.
No, we won't get it right.

We won't get it right.
No, we won't get it right.
NBURNS 2010
Written by
Nick Burns  Ash Tree Lane
(Ash Tree Lane)   
732
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems