By Arcassin Burnham
the stars out here,
Like gasoline,
I want to light it,just so I could shine,
Little lady,
My epitome,
it's not enough,I just hope your not the type,
they pick and choose,
From all the muse,
Don't see illusions,I Do not comply,
Bring out the spring,
Forget the summer,
Bid you adieu,want you to be alright,
Sack of lies,
Broken ties,
Time flies,
There was never strings,
In your eyes,
To much fables,
I've been despised,
Don't believe a thing.
Don't believe a thing.
/
As the dust **** settles in the moonlight,
And the road leads you to a place unseen,
All the good men die being heroes,
And that profession can't always be for free,
Absolutely outstanding in the new yard,
The most high let's my soul go free,
Being stupid won't ever get you that far,
It's always good in his eyes when you believe,
Believe.
And a man has to be own his own now,
When the man comes around you know it's trouble,
And that man can uncover what has been found,
Just gotta believe.
©abpoetry2018
https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/03/spring-girl-his-own.html
