A long while ago
Perhaps a year
I wrote a poem
About a beau
And now,
He's back
And better than the last time, I can tell
And in my heart he shall be allowed
He says all these great things
True to himself
He says he's changed
But how deep are these springs?
I am willing to give him another try
And I try to glaze over any doubts I possess
I urge to reach the sky
Touch the clouds with your hand in mine
I know we can
Will you be great with me?
And if all falls back to Earth,
I promise to always care
And attempt to do good by others.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 11:55 PM UTC
A long while ago
Perhaps a year
I wrote a poem
About a beau
And now,
He's back
And better than the last time, I can tell
And in my heart he shall be allowed
He says all these great things
True to himself
He says he's changed
But how deep are these springs?
I am willing to give him another try
And I try to glaze over any doubts I possess
I urge to reach the sky
Touch the clouds with your hand in mine
I know we can
Will you be great with me?
And if all falls back to Earth,
I promise to always care
And attempt to do good by others.
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