Sometimes, on a Friday night.
I lie awake, not in fright,
But in hopes of thinking there may be more,
Than why I have tears that fall to the floor.
Sometimes, on a Friday night,
I lie awake, because of lights that're bright,
And find a way to make it dimmer,
So that I can return to my peaceful slumber.
But on one Friday night,
I found myself awake not because of hopes nor light,
But because I found myself thinking of you,
My thoughts ponder: do you like me too?
Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 11:20 PM UTC
Sometimes, on a Friday night.
I lie awake, not in fright,
But in hopes of thinking there may be more,
Than why I have tears that fall to the floor.
Sometimes, on a Friday night,
I lie awake, because of lights that're bright,
And find a way to make it dimmer,
So that I can return to my peaceful slumber.
But on one Friday night,
I found myself awake not because of hopes nor light,
But because I found myself thinking of you,
My thoughts ponder: do you like me too?
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