By Arcassin Burnham
Blowing out the candles to a perfect evening
Wrapping up your fingers,
Laughing about the times where we would
Fall so short and I'd imagine you as a singer,
My love you don't have to smile,
but you've kept a leveled head for awhile,
but for you I would walk for miles,
you don't have to be a drama queen,
you don't have to be nice to me either,
I wouldn't have messed up In the past if I believed in her,
but I never shoot the messenger,
you don't have to be a drama queen,
I've fought all my demons,
You looked like a fiend in the night of your
Pours and your spills of the wine that you
Steal out of your father's cabinets,
I have no doubts that you are enjoying it,
Your self worth has surfaced just taking
Advantage of courage that you had before
When it occurred,
But it's all for the birds,
Like bread crumbs,
The breaking comes first,
Life is too short for these words in the
World of the further,
Swear to you there's no significant other,
Even when you bicker and fight with your
Brothers,
Having to deal with a sibling is torture,
Conferences with yourself to build up the
Comfort,
It all comes to an end when the sky gets darker.
©ABPoetry2017
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2017/01/messenger.html
