I could write you a song,
but that wont do.
I could write you a poem,
about things you already knew.
I could try to persuade you,
but the heart ignores that to.
I could buy you a necklace,
but you would refuse.
I could wait,
my life would end.
Or, I could forget,
long time to forget.
You’re killing me,
I slightly enjoi it.
You’re perfect for me,
but we will never be.
I showed you my heart,
you left it open,
empty,
alone.
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 2:12 PM UTC
I could write you a song,
but that wont do.
I could write you a poem,
about things you already knew.
I could try to persuade you,
but the heart ignores that to.
I could buy you a necklace,
but you would refuse.
I could wait,
my life would end.
Or, I could forget,
long time to forget.
You’re killing me,
I slightly enjoi it.
You’re perfect for me,
but we will never be.
I showed you my heart,
you left it open,
empty,
alone.
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