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Jul 2014
i asked for a gift for myself
from myself
you gave a gift to yourself
yourself
and keep asking me if i wanted to play
and she sits by the table waiting
for a pick up
not a dress-up
it'll blow up
and the tarnished ruins
haunt her within

the hole in her heart
is too big to mend
the ache in her head
is too much pain
just like when roses perish
beneath the blanket of snow
and sun smiles too much
which lets them feel it
and burn them
roses, no more

hopeful they'll remain, when their ancestors face again
and you and i, will sit somewhere nicer
than the underseat of your bedroom
sitting in the kitchen waiting for maids to clean your room

and the secret new girl, who's hidden from my world
she's disguised my point of view
and teachers preach, it's out of reach
the same soul returns to haunt another
change your views
the same soul tries to revive you more
only to sought

a truth among you hides in vain
hidden from sight, on the pane
the heart that searches for its mate
won't find it without gates
normal people search high and low
for a bush that would seem for show
their love tarnished for they know now
that the fairer are those who turn brows
JAK AL TARBS
Written by
JAK AL TARBS  England
(England)   
1.5k
   Pushing Daisies
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