There will be days
Like holidays and Tuesdays
When you creep into my mind to occupy the place I’ve tried to hide
No one gets out of love alive
And promises years in the making
Don’t break apart over night, or in a finite number of tears
And I am happy
To feel so much, to feel alive
The long winter made me sad, and the promise of sun makes me wish we had
More time
But the promise of days eventually gives way
To the realization that some things will never change
Time may heal all wounds
But time doesn’t create
And love can’t grow in places too desolate to sow
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
There will be days
Like holidays and Tuesdays
When you creep into my mind to occupy the place I’ve tried to hide
No one gets out of love alive
And promises years in the making
Don’t break apart over night, or in a finite number of tears
And I am happy
To feel so much, to feel alive
The long winter made me sad, and the promise of sun makes me wish we had
More time
But the promise of days eventually gives way
To the realization that some things will never change
Time may heal all wounds
But time doesn’t create
And love can’t grow in places too desolate to sow