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raegan-mariePoems
With you I gain close to no sympathy ever. But I like it too much, the strength of shoulder, despite the shallow water, your touch is deep. Just like his voice the chain on his neck the fitted sweater. I like you too much and you You're too much, this story, this you. Oh, I just love when you say small things to me, to her you're different. But I want He speaks and I can't give it up. His voice skips over my letters and thoughts and wait, what's the teacher saying? A desperate attempt to get back I give up. He's too much. Silly, silly wonderful Don't let me go. You have other girls I care not for other men. I sing out my problems, in a colder car alone, I cannot sing my problems away. But you can. Life is too good for poetry. We are a couple. I can't hold you together, but me? Life doesn't end with love. There is a loveless, a lonely Responsibility changes one and not the other. It's not about you. You are the adult and the child. Let me be. Stop talking We are superficial. Us both. I can't find the happiness you are looking for. You are not to be liked here.
0
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 9:56 PM UTC
Disorganized Class Love of Yours
With you I gain close to no sympathy ever. But I like it too much, the strength of shoulder, despite the shallow water, your touch is deep. Just like his voice the chain on his neck the fitted sweater. I like you too much and you You're too much, this story, this you. Oh, I just love when you say small things to me, to her you're different. But I want He speaks and I can't give it up. His voice skips over my letters and thoughts and wait, what's the teacher saying? A desperate attempt to get back I give up. He's too much. Silly, silly wonderful Don't let me go. You have other girls I care not for other men. I sing out my problems, in a colder car alone, I cannot sing my problems away. But you can. Life is too good for poetry. We are a couple. I can't hold you together, but me? Life doesn't end with love. There is a loveless, a lonely Responsibility changes one and not the other. It's not about you. You are the adult and the child. Let me be. Stop talking We are superficial. Us both. I can't find the happiness you are looking for. You are not to be liked here.
raegan-marie
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raegan-marie
Polish
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 9:56 PM UTC
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