It is hard To write When all the words I want to say Are scrambled up inside Poems about love and betrayal. It just seems so overused But no matter what It is hard To write Anything other then about that.
Words like paper, valued by what they say Eyes like river, unclear when swayed Mouth like flames, burning the night away Bodies like roots, thirsty to grow all astray
I think of past moments and how different I’ve become Thinking of all that made me numb I want you just like I did back then Wherever you may be my arms are open If it makes a difference to you I’d just like to say I still love you too I wish the world had not of come between But good came from it; one of us got clean I am not a sinner nor am I a saint A falsified portrait I will not paint You will see how much I’ve changed and grown Pages of this life I own I slip right through these paper years As my innocence all but disappears
